Count Them
by DancingPhalangess
Summary: Words scar deeper than anyone can imagine. It just takes a trip to the beach and one lie to change everything and Rachel is spinning into a darker place than she has ever been before.
1. Chapter 1

**For the sake of this story, Finn and Rachel are still together and everything with Puck and Santana never ever happened. **

Rachel opened her eyes to the glaring sun beaming across her face and she immediately squeezed them shut again. A cross between that and the squawking of birds above her, combined with the shouts coming from all directions was beginning to threaten a headache, spasms of pain were already creeping behind her eyes, shooting across her forehead. A warm breeze fluttered over her, blowing her loose hair up to gently tickle her face, a strand landing across her lips, containing the faint taste of salt.

Without opening her eyes, Rachel pushed herself slowly into a sitting position, supporting herself from behind with her hands. She took a deep breath of the warm, salty air, tasting it on her dry lips as she inhales. A loud screech of an angry seagull sounded close to her left side, but she didn't open her eyes, wanting to enjoy the peace of the blindness for a few more moments, imagining where the sounds were coming from, what they might mean. The shout of laughter to her right could have been Puck torturing Quinn with a fistful of wet muddy sand, or Brittany running from the seagull screeching feet away.

"I was starting to think you'd actually fallen asleep." A voice very close to her ear made Rachel jump and her eyes snapped open accompanied by a gasp. She turned her head quickly around to see Finn's face inches from hers, his mouth turned up in a 'ha, I got you', smile.

A sudden thud from beside her made Rachel jump again, this time a scream escaped her throat. "Calm it my Jewish Princess, it's only me," said Puck. He had thrown himself down on her other side, a smirk dancing across his lips. "You coming in the water? Santana's trying to force in Brittany but she's worried that a shark will attack her unless there's a large group of us to scare it off."

Rachel shook her head. "No way, do you have any idea about the sort of things that are in that water? Being in the sea is like going for a swim in other people's waste-" She was cut off mid sentence, letting out another scream as Puck lifted her into the air, one arm around the back of her knees, the other around her back, and began to carry her across the sand.

"Noah! What are you doing? Put me down!" She shrieked. Finn leapt to his feet, quickly following them.

"Dude, what on earth are you doing?" He asked over Rachel's screams.

"Getting your girlfriend to loosen up," Puck replied, as if kidnapping a girl across the beach was nothing out of the ordinary. He leapt up onto a dock leading out into the sea, Rachel still in his arms.

"Put me down now, Puckerman!" Rachel yelled, struggling in his arms.

"Yeah Puck, you've had your fun, now leave her alone," Finn agreed, his stare focused on Puck's bare hands on the backs of Rachel's legs. She was wearing nothing but a one piece bathing suit.

"Certainly," said Puck as he dropped his arms, allowing Rachel to fall from them with another scream. Finn watched as she dropped into the sea, several feet below and disappeared under the surface. She emerged a few seconds later, gasping for air and coughing, barely tall enough to stand on the ground below the water. Her wet her was plastered to her forehead and around her face, blocking her vision.

Puck looked casually on without an ounce of guilt as Rachel swung around in the water to face him, scraping the wet hair out of her face. "You are so dead!" She gasped, still struggling to catch her breath. She grabbed the edge of the dock and hauled herself out of the water with a surprising speed for her small build. Puck smirked and turned away from her, running back across the dock before she could even gain her footing.

Unphased by his head start, Rachel took off after Puck, ignoring Finn's shouts from behind her. Her wet feet slapped against the wood as she ran, almost slipping from underneath her more than once, but she kept going, determined to get Puck back for the dirty salt water she could taste in her mouth and the germs she could feel creeping all over her skin, the smell clinging to her hair that she knew she wouldn't be rid of for days. Adrenaline ran through her body, giving her the extra burst of speed she needed to be hot on Puck's heels.

Suddenly, Puck spun around, stopping dead as Rachel charged towards him and he grabbed her around her waist as she reached him, lifting her off her feet for the second time that day. He swung her around in the air, tightening his grip on her waist to keep her there.

"Ow!" Rachel gasped, her own hands shooting to her stomach. Puck released her immediately, putting her quickly but gently back down on the sand.

"What's wrong?" He asked, suddenly serious. Rachel shook her head, taking her hands away from her stomach.

"Nothing," she muttered, frowning gently. "Just a stomach ache."

From the dock, Finn watched as Puck's arms slipped around his girlfriend's waist, hoisting her up into the air. He watched as he put her back down again, as quickly as if her touch her burned him, a sudden solemn expression on his face. He'd felt something. Finn burned with jealously as he saw Rachel drop her gaze away from Puck, her arms wrapped where his had been just moments before. They had both felt it.

…

The arcade was lively with kids and teenagers when the Glee kids entered it, adding to the noise. Immediately, the group split off, Santana, Brittany, Sam and Quinn heading off in one direction and Puck going in the other with Rachel and Finn. Half an hour, several dollars and nothing to show for it later, they had just about given up on the thought of achieving anything and started to look for the others.

"What about one last shot at winning something?" Suggested Puck as they walked past a machine none of them had tried before. It wasn't one like the others that could only ever earn you meaningless prizes that were flung into a corner and forgotten about as soon as the novelty of actually having won something had worn off. It was one of the few with proper prizes. Jewellery, watches, cash prizes and even an I-phone.

"Come on Noah, those ones are even more of a con than the others, I doubt it's even possible to win on those ones, they just put fancy prizes on show so that people will be attracted to wasting their money on something that's never going to happen."

"So? You buy heels to make yourself taller don't you?"

With a scowl, Rachel rolled her eyes as she and Finn followed Puck to the machine. He inserted a five dollar bill, the cocky smirk never once leaving his face as he tired over and over to hit the button on time to stop on the red light that would win him the prize. Rachel rolled her eyes again, leaning against the side of the machine.

"Just give it up Puckerman," she said with an sigh. Puck grinned at her.

"No way, I have one more go and I'm not losing this thing again."

"I think you're fighting a lost cause dude," Finn said, siding with Rachel.

"Wanna bet on that?" Said Puck with a smirk as he hit the button, signalling the end of his last turn. But that time, the light landed right where it was meant to, stopping on red. His smile soon faded as the small box, dropped from the machine.

"Nice," Finn commented as Puck bent down to collect his prize. A pair of gold stud earrings in the shape of stars. Puck scowled, but then his face brightened suddenly, and he flung the box in Rachel's direction.

"Happy Hanukkah."

Rachel stared down at the box in her hands and the small earrings that lay within it. "You're giving me these?" She switched her gaze from the box to the boy who had just thrown them at her.

"Well I'm hardly gonna wear them," he shrugged. Rachel smiled and slipped the box into her pocket, stepping forwards towards Puck, who backed off, looking wary. She rolled her eyes at him and flung her arms around him before he could back off again. He hesitated before returning her hug.

"Thank-you," she mumbled, finally pulling away. Puck shrugged again, looking away from her and towards the beach still visible from the arcade. Very determinedly looking at neither Rachel or Finn.

"They're just earrings, and it's not as if I'm going to find much other use for them." He turned back to Rachel, a smug smile suddenly on his face. "And at least this way I get to rub the fact that you were wrong right in your face. Every time you wear those, you can think of today and remember that you're not always right."

"Today was a very rare occurrence that I am sure will not be happening again," she said, swatting him with her hand. "Now we'd better find the others if we don't want to miss the last train home. My dads will panic if I'm not home by the time I told them I would be." She headed across the arcade, still talking over her shoulder and Puck and Finn followed behind her, Puck resisting the temptation to roll his eyes.

…

Finn stared in jealousy at the studs resting in his girlfriend's ears as he lay beside her on her bed. He wanted to ask her why she was wearing them, but something told him the question wouldn't go down well. They were hers, and he hadn't upped any protest when Puck had given them to her, although he'd felt his insides burn with resentment and jealousy.

Shaking off the feelings which he knew were irrational, Finn slipped his arm around her waist, holding her tighter to him, but instead of sinking into him, Rachel flinched and jerked away, freezing as soon as she had reacted, as if she hadn't meant to show her distaste. "Rach?" Questioned Finn, propping himself up with his elbow and staring down at her. She refused to look at him.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, a slight edge to his voice. Still, she did not look at him.

"I-I just didn't want-" She stammered, but Finn interrupted her.

"Didn't want what? I was just holding you, nothing more. It's not as if it's the first time we've done that." Rachel finally looked at him, shifting her eyes slowly to his. Behind them, Finn could see unease, and a hint of something he couldn't quite place. Guilt? Or even fear?

"I know, I-I'm sorry."

He glared at her, struggling to stop the thoughts that were gathering in his mind. Thoughts of her with someone else, letting them explore places he'd never been allowed near. She'd never been keen to be intimate with him, but never that bad. Finn tired to force the images from his mind of her with a faceless man who was taking the shape of his best friend more every moment it remained burned in his imagination.

"Maybe I should just go," he snapped suddenly, rolling away from her and swinging his legs off the bed. Rachel sat up abruptly and opened her mouth, her protests rushing up her throat and resting on the tip of her tongue where they remained stuck, even as she tried to force them out.

"Wait-" she managed, just as he reached her bedroom door and extended his arm to open it. Finn paused at the door, but didn't turn around, staying there for a few moments as if waiting for Rachel to carry on, but she remained silent, struggling to find the words.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said coldly, before pulling open her bedroom door and disappearing out of it, snapping it shut behind him with a little more force than necessary, leaving Rachel sitting alone on her bed, and wondering what it was, exactly, that she had done wrong.

…

Rachel pulled open her locker the next day with bleary eyes. She yawned, rooting through her books to find her Spanish one, tired from the lack of sleep she had managed the night before. Her mind her been filled with thoughts of Finn and their argument. If it could even have been called that. They hadn't fought exactly, but Rachel had felt his cold anger as he'd left the room, convincing her she must have done something wrong.

All night she'd tired to think of exactly why Finn had seemed so mad at her, but even with her intelligence, she'd came up with nothing. Unless he'd realised the real reason she had flinched away from him and was disgusted by it. Maybe he'd felt beneath her top and hated her for what she had done.

As lost in thought as she was, Rachel didn't hear him come up behind her amongst the noise of the rest of the student body as they lazily strolled to their next period, chatting about meaningless topics that Rachel never bothered herself with. She didn't notice him, in fact, until he came right up behind her and slammed her locker shut from where he was stood. She only just managed to move her hands out of the way in time.

Shocked, she spun around, angry words forming on her lips until she saw who it was. Rachel closed her mouth again, a frown working its way across her face. She'd thought things between them would be back to normal, that Finn would have realised he was the one in the wrong and being irrational towards her, but the way he was glaring down at her, anger flashing behind his eyes, told her otherwise. He was more furious than ever before.

"W-what's the matter?" Rachel stammered, unable to draw her eyes away from him. She kept her gaze fixed on his face, as if afraid of what he would do if she turned away.

"Don't pretend like you don't know, Rachel!" He half yelled, causing several heads to turn and stare in their direction. She blinked at him, completely bewildered.

"Finn, due to my above average scores on every test I take, I am usually able to keep up with whatever comes up in conversation. But I can honesty say I have no idea what you are referring to."

Finn's glare grows even more intense. "Don't start with all that 'I'm so amazing' crap that comes out of your mouth every time you speak, because you know something? You're really not."

_One. _

Rachel blinked, her eyes suddenly swimming with unshed tears as she stared at her furious boyfriend.

"What have I done?" She asked, quietly, her voice shaking. "I'm sorry if I didn't want to get any closer last night, but if you want to go out with me, you're going to have to be a lot more patient than you were with Quinn."

"Yeah, well it's lucky I don't then."

Rachel stared at him, her lip beginning to quiver with the effort of not crying. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, briefly. When she opened them again, she was not looking at Finn, but at the floor. "You don't want to be with me?" She almost whispered when she could trust herself to speak. As she did, the tears escaped her eyes and ran down her face, creating tracks for new ones to fall.

"No. I don't." He looked her up and down without a trace of regret. "And I don't know why I ever did."

_Two. _

More tears followed the first ones, splashing down her cheeks no matter how hard Rachel tried to stop them. She kept her eyes on the floor, not trusting herself to look at him. "Do you mind telling me what I've done wrong?" She asked, quietly, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her tears. She barely made out Finn's angry voice, the rest of the world seemed to have fallen away, and it was just the two of them. But she was sinking faster, falling down with the rest of them, but no one reached out to catch her.

"I know Rachel." Was all he said, coldly and with no trace of humour. If he was joking, it had gone too far. "Santana told me. She saw the two of you in the auditorium."

_ Told you what? _Rachel thought, but she found the words once again blocked as soon as she tried to speak them. Who was she supposed to have been with? And what were they meant to have been doing? She could guess, but could not think why Finn would think that. Not on Santana's word.

"I'm not surprised. After what happened with Quinn, I expected this, from him, but I never thought you would. But look," he tangled his fingers into her hair, forcing it back. "You're even wearing his earrings."

For a moment, one heart jerking second, Rachel was afraid he was going to pull them right out of her ears, and perhaps he was too, for he let go of her, pulling away as fast as if touching her had scorched him. Finn stood there, and she could eel his eyes on her, boring into her and alight with anger, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, even the denial was stuck somewhere between her throat and the air.

It was obvious now who he was referring to, what he was talking about, but Rachel still could not think why he would believe Santana's word without so much as asking her if it were true. She could not believe he would say those things to her, accuse her of something like that without even her conformation. "Are you not even going to ask me if it's true?" She managed at last, not bothering to disguise the tremble in her voice.

Before Finn could say a word in response, someone slammed into her shoulder, flinging her into the lockers with a loud crash and Rachel turned her head to see Karofsky laughing over his shoulder as he ploughed through the corridor, students darting out of his way to avoid being slammed. "Sorry hobbit," he yelled. "I didn't see you there."

Finn didn't say a word in her defence, or even ask if she was okay, and she hadn't expected him to. Rachel rubbed her arm where she had fallen into the lockers, and didn't let go again, wrapping it around her stomach so both her arms were folded across it, as if she was trying to protect herself from the pain.

"I don't need to. I've seen the two of you together. I was there you know, at the beach. I saw him pick you up, his hands were all over you. And what was with those earrings?"

"He won them, just like he said Finn, he was hardly going to wear them. What would you suggest he do? Just throw them away?"

Finn glared at her, too angry to hear a word she was saying. A part of him knew she was right and wanted to believe her, but the images that ran through his mind told him otherwise. Images of Puck's hands running over her legs, hoisting her into the air, spinning her around with his arms wrapped firmly around her waist. The look on Rachel's face when he presented her with the earrings, throwing them casually in her direction as if they were nothing more than cheap plastic. Another of the two entwined together, sneaking into the auditorium as soon as they could both escape him.

"I didn't expect him to give them to my girlfriend, that's supposed to be my job! There's no excuse for the rest of it, what are you going to come up with for the fact that you've been fooling around with him for weeks behind my back?" He was yelling so loudly, that a crowd had gathered in the hall, spectators there to stare. "I thought you were many things Rachel, but I never had you down as a cheat. But at least now I finally have an excuse to trash you. Do you know what everyone thinks of you?"

Rachel tightened her arms around her waist, casting her eyes back to the floor and keeping them firmly fixed there, hiding the tears pouring thick and fast down her face. "Yes, actually Finn, I do. I hear it every day."

"Well do you know what they think of me for going out with you?" Rachel closed her eyes, willing herself somewhere else. Anywhere else. She wasn't standing there in the school corridor, being yelled out in front of half the student body, it wasn't Finn saying those things. She was on stage, on Broadway on the night of her first performance. She was nervous, but she knew it was where she was meant to be, what she had worked and pushed for since before she could walk. She belonged there.

But another image travelled through the haze of her dream. Finn's angry face stared out at her from the audience, his mouth forming the words that she dreaded to hear and suddenly, she forgot all her lines. Everything she had learned and worked for vanished from her mind and she couldn't think of what scene came next, what she was supposed to be doing. All she heard was his voice, calling to her from the front row.

"They say you're just kidding yourself that you have any talent, that you're nothing out of the ordinary and even if you did have the talent to make Broadway, your personality is too horrible for anyone to be willing to put up with you, and for dating you, that makes me a zero too. It makes me a loser, bottom of the pile just like you are."

_Three. Four. Five. _

Rachel wanted to clamp her hands over her ears, she didn't want to hear anymore. She no longer even cared about convincing him of her innocence, she just didn't want to stand there and listen to his words, hear everything she was afraid of about herself coming from his mouth. But then there was another voice, someone calling from across the corridor.

"What is going on here?" Mr Schue strode over to where Finn and Rachel were stood, a majority of the student body gathered around them, a crowd that had grown by the second. Mr Schue stared from one to the other, waiting for an explanation as one by one, the students who had stood to watch realised the show as over and slunk back to where they were supposed to be. Finn opened his mouth, as if to attempt an explanation, but closed it again with a scowl. Mr Schue's gaze fell to Rachel, who refused to even look at him.

"Look guys, whatever row you're having, it can either stay under control or wait to after school hours. I don't want to come across you screaming at each other in the middle of the corridor disrupting everyone else."

Rachel bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself sobbing aloud. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to stop crying. She had a sudden desperate desire to get out of there, Finn was no longer shouting but she could still hear his words ringing in her ears and feel both his and her teacher's gazes boring into her, one glaring in anger, the other searching her out.

"Both of you get back to class," snapped Mr Schue eventually, when it became clear he wasn't going to get an explanation out of either of them.

"Gladly," said Finn, coldly. He turned away from Rachel and stormed down the corridor, not once looking back, leaving her for the second time in less than twenty four hours, but that time, Rachel knew he wasn't coming back.

…

_You've got your dumb friends  
>I know what they say<br>They tell you I'm difficult  
>But so are they<br>But they don't know me  
>Do they even know you?<br>All the things you hide from me  
>All the shit that you do<em>

The music filled Rachel's mind, blocking all her own thoughts of Finn and pushing down the roaring pain that had been twisting inside her heart since Finn had left her standing in the school corridor, his words echoing inside her head time and time again until she could head nothing else.

_You were all the things I thought I knew  
>And I thought we could be<em>

_You were everything, everything that I wanted  
>We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it<br>And all of the memories, so close to me, just fade away  
>All this time you were pretending<br>So much for my happy ending  
><em>

As much as she tried to block out Finn's voice with the lyrics, she couldn't stop it merging into the song. Rachel had thought, stupidly, that he was different to everyone else, that he wasn't like all those who teased and tormented her, that even if things did go wrong for them, he would never stoop to that level. But perhaps she deserved it. She certainly did in his eyes.

_It's nice to know that you were there  
>Thanks for acting like you cared<br>And making me feel like I was the only one  
>It's nice to know we had it all<br>Thanks for watching as I fall  
>And letting me know we were done<br>_

__Tears begun to leak from her eyes once again, falling with a slow rhythm down her face. She had long since got used to them and didn't even try to brush them away as they spilled onto her pillow, causing small, damp patches. She yanked the I-pod earphones out of her ears, unable to bear the sound of her own failures blasting through her head. But the silence was worse.

Rachel pressed her hands to her stomach, feeling the comforting sting at the same time as a pang of regret. She knew what this meant. She knew she was no longer going to be able to hold off what she'd spent all evening trying to avoid. She had promised herself she would stop for him, that he she wanted him one day and didn't want to have to explain what they were, why she hadn't let him touch her until then. But he didn't care now. She had no one to do it for.

Almost roboticly, Rachel sat up and got too her feet, swaying a little from the head rush caused by lying down for so long. For the first time since Finn had left her alone in her room the previous night, she felt calm. She'd regret it later, she'd hate herself for it, she'd be disgusted with what she'd once again caved into, but it didn't matter. And perhaps she wouldn't anyway. There was no one to feel guilty for now.

The can felt cool to her touch as she picked it up of the self and pulled off the cap. A hiding place no one would think of looking in. Rachel tipped the lid upside down and immediately, two thin blades fell into the palm of her hand and she could already feel the bad feeling, the hurt beginning to fade and the edges of the gaping hole softening. She closed her fingers around the tiny releases, sitting back down on her bed carefully, as if she'd break if she did it too suddenly.

Then, with a sudden urgency, Rachel pulled up the hem of her top, revealing what she allowed no one else to see. Her stomach, patterned with a web of scars old and new, fresh cuts and deeper marks, even some words. All there by the tiny objects in her hand. One for every insult, every put down thrown her way. Some of the words etched into her skin so she'd never forget.

Today, she had counted five.


	2. Chapter 2

**Due to popular demand, I am going to make an attempt to carry this on. I doubt it will be long, like three chapters or something (one of these days, I will write a proper, long fic for Glee). I was just getting tired of seeing this added to alerts knowing there was nothing to finish, it made me think that perhaps the story didn't have to end after all, not just yet anyhow. This chapter gets a little graphic. It may be triggering. **

She did not know when Glee had become a chore, but suddenly, the very thought of going caused a groan to rise in her throat. Perhaps it was when Finn stopped sneering at her in the halls and took to ignoring her completely, making an extra effort to sit and talk with Quinn in every meeting, because he knew that would hurt her more than any words he ever spoke. Or perhaps it was when she stopped fighting for solos and just handed them over to whoever challenged her, so she was more often than not swaying mindlessly in the background. Or perhaps it was when Finn had walked in hand in hand with Santana.

There were many reasons Rachel had for suddenly hating the one part of her day she had looked forward to beyond anything else, and Finn Hudson was at the centre of it all. He was the reason she pulled the covers over her head and hit snooze rather than leaping onto her exercise bike the moment her alarm went off. He was the reason she walked down the school halls with the weight of dread in her heart because there was no longer a hand to reach out for when she felt herself being crushed under the insults that followed her along them. He was the reason the stars no longer gleamed in her eyes.

Or, perhaps more accurately, Santana Lopez was. But it was not Santana who was bothering her anymore. It was strange, but the Cheerio had left her alone in the past weeks. Maybe it was because she had found someone new to torture, or maybe she just had what she wanted, but whatever it was, Rachel could not bring herself to care. In the past, she would have been overjoyed at one less tormentor, but now the news was acknowledged with nothing more than the tiniest of flutters in the far corner of her heart.

It didn't matter if Santana left her alone because so did Finn, and Rachel watched as every day he took her hand, rubbed his own against her leg, dragged her off in breaks and sat beside her at lunch time. She watched as he sat beside Quinn instead of his old seat at the front with her in Glee and openly flirted with her, all the time his arm remained around Santana's shoulders.

Glee passed in the same mindless fashion that it had adopted in the past few weeks, nothing out of the ordinary happened and Rachel spent it avoiding the eye of Finn and the Cheerio on each arm. It briefly crossed her mind to wonder why Santana and Quinn were putting up with his blatant flirting with them both, but the thought had barely crossed her mind before she knew the answer. They were willing to go along with it to get to her.

Once again, Rachel did not get given the solo. It went to Mercedes without even passing by her first, Mr Schue having long given up on getting her to sing anything. She had not stopped singing, not by a long shot. She just did it alone now, either in her bedroom or the school auditorium when no one else was around to hear her. The songs she chose now were not the sort she wanted her peers to hear her singing. She sang to empty walls to match the aching loneliness inside her own heart and no longer cared about the silence that followed.

The hour flew by, and in what seemed like no time at all, the bell for the end of the rehearsal sounded and it was time to pick up her heavy body from the chair and drag it out to the car park to find her car and drive it home. Time seemed to be doing that lately, either dragging by so she was sure it must have actually stopped, or whizzing by so fast it could be fourth period before she had even registered the sound of her alarm.

It took Rachel several moments to realise that meant she would have to get up, leave the choir room and make her way to her car, and just the thought was enough to drain her of the small scrap of energy she had managed to collect sitting in silence. So she stayed there, not caring that everyone else had left or that Mr Schue was still gathering up his sheet music, shooting her worried glances every few seconds. She didn't care when he put down the papers and came towards her, but she was out of her seat and through the door by the time he reached the one next to it, before the 'are you all right?' could even form on his lips.

…

As soon as she got home, Rachel began to count. She thought of Karofsky shoving past her on his way to the cafeteria and calling out 'man hands' as she fell against the lockers. That was one. Then there was Finn, he had not said anything, but just once during the Glee meeting, he had looked at her. For just a few seconds, he had taken his eyes from Santana and gazed up her body before settling his eyes on hers, and with them said, _look who I can have when I'm not tied down to you. _Then again, maybe she imagined it. There seemed to be insult in every sentence directed towards her, people's words twisted inside her head so something ordinary became a criticism. It was as if her mind was programmed to notice only the hate.

Once she had taken a mental journey through her entire day, remembered every look, word and slushie, Rachel had counted nine. _Nine. _Nine in one day. There was no room on her stomach for nine, most of it was already taken with previous cuts and words, if she wanted to fit them on, she was going to have to overlap. Unless she started elsewhere. It wasn't as if anyone was going to notice now, barely anyone spoke a word to her throughout the day, let alone touched her. The tops of her legs would do, that was a spot easily hidden.

Rachel pushed up her skirt to reveal the large patches of clear skin that suddenly itched to be scarred. She pictured the web of cuts, the pattern it would make and knew it was what she had to do. She wanted the rest of her body to be marred with scars, she wanted it to be as ugly as the rest of her. To her, the patch of clean skin was like a blank canvas to an artist. It just had to be painted. But the canvas was her body, the blade was a brush and her blood was the paint.

The coldness of the metal made her gasp as it pressed against her warm skin. It was something she had never grown used to, but a part of the process that she enjoyed. Feeling the blade before she cut helped her focus, it put her mind directly on what she was about to do so she could feel the effects of the weapon. She ran it along her skin, over and over until she had the nine pains from the day right there in front of her, a physical pain on herself which proved it was real. She hurt so quietly inside that she needed it to show she wasn't imagining it. It _was _there, she _did _hurt.

But nine were not enough. They were there, but they were just lines. Marks that could mean anything. So Rachel took a fresh brush, found a new piece of blank canvas and began to pain the words that were screaming inside her. _Unpretty. Man hands. Rupaul. Finn's girl. _It was so much easier to write words on her leg than it had been her stomach. She could reach it better, carve at an angle she hadn't been able to achieve before. Once she had started, stopping was impossible. She needed the words to be there to remind her what she always would be, to scar the truth right into herself, to tell the world what she was feeling inside even if no one was meant to see it. It was like her own private journal that she could take any place she pleased.

_Totally irritating. _She wrote that next, she remembered the exact words perfectly, but wanted space for more, so selected just the two words that stuck in her mind, screaming themselves over and over every time she opened her mouth. _Why? _Reminded her of Finn's words when he had dumped her in the middle of the hall as he wondered what it was that had ever made him date her.

Half of her right thigh was soaked in red before Rachel allowed herself to stop. Looking at the mess she had made of herself, she waited to burst into tears. She waited to be ashamed of what she had done, she waited to feel the pain, but nothing came. All she felt when she looked down at the now covered canvas was a sense of calm. It was real now, she didn't have to worry she was going crazy, she didn't have to sort the jumbled feelings inside her for anyone, the scars were enough to communicate that. It was _real. _

After several minutes of just gazing in wonder at the damage she had caused herself, the blood began to drip onto the carpet, staining the pale pink with crimson droplets. Each one spread as it hit, creating another pattern beneath her feet. Without taking her eyes off her leg, Rachel reached for her first aid kit and unzipped it, feeling around inside for a bandage and antiseptic. If it got infected, it would be much harder to hide and the infection would ruin the pattern, it would make it ugly.

Once her leg was cleaned and wrapped, Rachel pushed herself gingerly to her feet. Her legs wobbled underneath her and she collapsed instantly back down onto the bed with a hiss of pain. She swore. Looking at the clock, she saw she had thirteen hours until she had to go to school. That was okay, the woman from _Kill __Bill _had learned to walk all over again in thirteen hours. She hadn't even been able to move her toes.

It took Rachel just thirteen minutes to be able to get to her feet and cross the room without disaster, and although it hurt and she walked with a pronounced limp, it was possible. Of course she was going to have to make something up about pulling a muscle during her morning exercise ritual, or maybe she would throw herself down the stairs (carefully, she could do without a trip to ER) and claim to her dads to have hurt her leg, but then they might stop her going to school, and she always went to school, no matter what.

…

_The floor clicked under her small heels as she walked down the corridor, her eyes flickering from the lockers on either side of her to the far wall. Messages were scattered across the fronts of the lockers, some single words and others phrases. Some were quotes from others, but all had the same purpose. To tear her down. The traditional Rupaul was up there, along with Hobbit, Willow and just the word 'nose'. But then there were others too. New names, new taunting words. Mommy's Reject, Dyke, Man-girl, Vermin, Rat, Swine, Hebe. _

_Rachel let out a strangled gasp at the last four. They did not seem like the worst names on the list, but she remembered her dads once sitting them all in front of a documentary on the Holocaust. They insisted that it was something they had to do to learn about their culture and what their people had endured, and those were amongst the names ordinary German folk spat at Jews as they passed them on the street. _

_With the words already burned into her mind, Rachel turned away and felt her stomach flip as the iron smell of blood hit her. She heard it plop onto the floor as she continued her walk down her school hall, realising it was from the messages. Each one was painted on the metal in blood, large, swooping letters. A lot must have been taken to write all of that. The person it was taken from could not have survived. _

_As she walked along the rest of the corridor, Rachel kept her head firmly forward. She did not want to read any of the other messages, but they seemed to reach her anyhow, their whispers carrying in the gentle breeze that ran the length of the empty hall. The words wrapped themselves around her, enshrouding her in their unrelenting hold so she could almost feel them, feel their meaning, their sound creeping under her skin and burying themselves inside her, becoming a part of her, one after another until they built her almost completely. _

_There was someone standing ahead of her. A figure that cast a shadow against the wall, which Rachel was thankful to see was free of derogatory terms. She opened her mouth to call out to the figure, but one more step showed her it was Finn. Following the recognition, an almost overwhelming sense of calm fell upon her. If Finn was there, it would be all right, he made her safe, nothing and no one could hurt her in his presence, not even herself. _

_But as she took another step forwards, a grin breaking out over her face, she felt something warm begin to spread across her stomach. Without taking her eyes off Finn, she pressed her palm to the patch. It was not just warm, but wet too. The smell hit her stronger than ever then. The smell of blood. And it wasn't just her stomach that was warm now, it was her arms, her legs, her throat, her back, even her face. _

_A scream erupted from her mouth as Rachel finally snapped her eyes away from Finn to look down at her blood soaked body. The words from the lockers were beginning to form on her skin, slashed into it by something she could not see. Without having to check, Rachel knew they were deep. Deeper than she had ever cut before, and suddenly, she knew who the blood had come from. The messages were not only inside her both emotionally and physically, but spread across the walls in her own blood, leaked from the terms scrawled across her skin. _

_Her legs shook so violently underneath her that she collapsed and as soon as she hit the floor, Rachel knew she wouldn't get back up again. She lay shivering, her own blood pooling around her as she tried desperately to call out for Finn. Surely he had seen her fall, seen the blood. He would come and help her, he wouldn't just leave her bleeding and dying, no matter what had happened between them. _

_He was coming. He was getting closer, Rachel could hear his footsteps, even if she was not at the right angle to see him. She knew he was there, not because the footsteps stopped, but because she could feel him. His body stood over hers, and the panic died inside her. He'd help her. She would be okay. A smile graced her lips as he knelt down beside her, his fingers brushing the hair from her face. Rachel shivered all the more violently at his touch, willing for him to stay right here, his fingers entwined in her hair. _

_With a strength she barely possessed, Rachel twisted her head to look up at him, the smile growing wider as her eyes were met with his, but it soon fell away. It dropped from her lips as she saw his too were curled up in a grin, but it was not a soft one filled with trust and love, as hers was. It was twisted out of shape in an un-Finn-like sneer. His eyes were cold, empty of everything but a burning hatred that seemed to set them on fire. _

_Rachel's expression turned from one of hope to fear. A cold, heavy fear unlike anything she could ever remember feeling before. She had never been afraid of Finn before, no matter what he had been doing, but the way he was looking at her told her he was not there to help. He was there to watch all of the blood drain from her body, he was there to watch her fall to the floor, he was there to watch her die. _

_Then something cold touched her cheek. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of the blood that seemed to cover every inch of her, and Rachel felt it immediately. She knew what it was too. She had pressed the sharp edge of a blade against her own skin enough times to know what it felt like. Finn's sneer twisted further, the hatred in his eyes burning brighter still as he bent forwards, leaning so close to her she could feel the hot tickle of his breath against her neck. _

_"I'm free."_

Rachel's eyes shot open, her limbs scrambling in the darkness as she opened her mouth to let out the scream tearing through her, but the silence remained around her, broken only by the strangled gasps made by the tears that streaked down her cheeks. She leaned against the bed, shaking so hard that it trembled against the wall and buried her face in the warm comfort of her duvet, her cries muffled by the material until the cheerful chirp of the birds sounded from the other side of her glass window and the golden streaks of dawn basked her bedroom in a soft glow

**There was something I intended to say in this author's note, but I've forgotten what it is. One of these days, I will write a one shot that stays a one shot. I do have a couple hanging out on my profile, but what can I say, I'm awesome, people just want more ;) (That sounded sexual). **

**The next update won't take this long, I just didn't think I was going to continue this for ages and ages. **

**Oh, and to anyone that read it, I've posted the first chapter to the sequel of 'Fade Away' **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank-you for all the reviews and alerts and things :) I really love getting them and it's those that made me carry on this 'one shot'. You guys are all kinds of awesome :)**

Rachel shuddered as she limped down the school hall hours later, still able to see the hateful words smeared across the lockers in her own blood. She told herself it was just a dream, that it didn't mean anything, but of course it meant everything. She had thought Finn would be there in real life too, she didn't think he would just leave her to bleed, but she had been bleeding last night and he was nowhere to be found. He had not physically taken the blade to her skin, but he was the reason half of them were there, his words were etched on her skin. The scars spelled out their skins.

The dream was still so fresh and raw in her mind, that when someone grabbed hold of her arm as she pulled books from her locker she gasped and dropped them with a clunk to the bottom of it. When she snapped her head around and saw it was Finn, the irrational part of her still trapped in the nightmare wanted to scream. She blinked at him and backed up slightly, wondering when it was she had become so afraid and jumpy. It was just a _dream. _Finn was not really going to pull out a knife and drench the walls in her blood.

Although he had been the one to make the contact, Finn would not look at her. He was determinedly staring anywhere but at her face, his gaze flickering from the floor, to the inside of her locker, to her feet, back to her locker again. Rachel raised her eyebrows, and just for a moment she felt an old spark of the person she used to be flicker back to life and her expression softened at the sight of the adorable awkwardness she had always loved about him.

But then she saw what he held in his hand. She saw the guilty flash in his eyes and the way the fist holding the drink twitched towards her, like he was trying to prepare himself for throwing it.

"Karofsky says as we're not dating anymore, there's no rules against me doing this, and I should do it to get over you." Rachel's expression didn't change. She had predicted this, him trying to justify what he was about to do. He had done the same thing when Glee Club was first starting out and he had been told to slushie Kurt. He had explained, as if doing so would make it all right, but of course it didn't. It wasn't right then and it wasn't right now, but Rachel was used to not right. It wasn't like anyone ever really thought about her feelings.

"Then do it," was all she said. She closed her eyes to protect them against the burning ice that was about to hit her. It always hurt worst in the eyes, stinging them like it was acid that had been thrown rather than a frozen drink. She waited for the rush of cold, she waited to feel the cold lumps in her hair, running down her face, sticking her clothes to her body. It took longer than she had predicted, but it came and as it did, she felt not just like she had been hit by a slushie, but as if Finn had thrown his own fist into her face.

After several moments, Rachel dared to open her eyes, feeling the ice trap on her eyelids as she did so. The first thing she saw was Finn, he was staring directly at her and his expression was one of shock and regret. She blinked, her gaze dropping to his hand to view the offending cup, but to her surprise, it wasn't there, Finn's fist was clutched around empty air.

It was not until she heard the cruel laugh ring through the halls that Rachel realised Karofsky had been the one to throw the drink. She waited to feel the relief, a weight off of her aching heart that it had not been Finn who had done it, but it didn't come. Instead, she felt the same crushing sadness that she had felt each time someone had passed her in the halls, shooting her a degrading look or comment when she had still been dating him and he hadn't said a thing in her defence.

Without a word, Rachel drew her eyes away from Finn and reached to the top shelf of her locker for her spare clothes, but her fingers had barely brushed the material when it was whisked away from her and she turned to see Karofsky holding an armful of her clothes and laughing harder than ever. He strode past her, flinging his hand out and shoving it into her stomach as he did so she flew backwards into the lockers.

Rachel did not even try to stop herself falling to the floor as she pressed her own hand to her stomach, the cry of pain going unheard above the noise of the rest of the student body. She closed her eyes and hissed, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself shouting again.

"Right there on the floor is where you belong, Fag Spawn," laughed Karofsky as he walked away, still cackling over his shoulder. _Fag Spawn. _That was a new one. Was that really what she was? Was it all she had been reduced to? The worthless offspring of two gay men, so desperate for a child. Too bad they had been landed with her. She must be such a disappointment.

Finn was still there. Rachel could feel his presence without having to look up, but for the first time, she wished he wasn't. She was used to him seeing her covered in slushie, she was used to him hearing the names and insults flung her way, she was even used to him standing by and not doing a thing. What she wasn't used to was him being a part of it. He had been right _there_, and even the coward Finn she had dated would not have just stood there as Karofsky had had thrown her to the floor, dripping with slushie and called her that _name. _

In her eyes, him standing by Karofsky's side instead of hers made him just as much a part of it as the guy who had thrown her down there. And now he was reaching a hand down to help her. He slipped his hand into hers and lifted it uselessly, in an attempt to haul her to her feet, but Rachel batted him away so fast and then snapped her hand back to her side so quickly, as if she couldn't bare to have him touch her. Still, she did not look at him.

"Rachel," he began, but broke off again without finishing the sentence. Rachel didn't care. She didn't want to hear it, what she wanted more than anything was for him to leave her alone, alone and bleeding just like he always did. No, what she wanted more than _anything _was her blade. The only friend who had always stood by her, she knew it would help her now. She just wanted it to make everything better, to take away the stain of that name.

"I didn't know he was going to do that," Finn said at last. "I mean, I knew about the slushie, but that's it. "But I didn't know about-"

"I don't care Finn," Rachel snapped, the first words she had spoken since he had first approached her. "Just leave me alone. Piss off. Now." Finn blinked and stared down at the tiny girl at his feet, who still refused to look at him. She was so...different. Not his Rachel at all. No, not his. Just Rachel. She wasn't her, she just wasn't Rachel. Where were all the long words? Where were the corrections on his own speech, the lecture on how he was acting? And since when did Rachel cuss?

He waited for all of that to start, he waited for the rant, for her to use five words instead of one as she attacked him in the scary Rachel way that she did. That was one thing she had in common with Quinn, both of them were darn scary when they got mad. He thought that was one thing he didn't like about her, that someone so small could actually scare him, but as he watched her curled on the floor as students stampeded around her, he wanted nothing more than for her to yell at him, hit him even because the girl at his feet was just so_ broken. _

But Rachel said just one more word, a whispered word that made the guilt grow until he could barely breathe and he had to remind himself of what she had done, and force the image of her and Puck together in his mind to stop himself from drowning in it.

"Please."

…

The next week dragged by in something of a haze for Rachel. She barely registered where she was going and what for, let alone took anything in. Her classes could have all been taught in French for all the difference it made for her, and although she continued to stumble though her homework, seeing an F scrawled across an essay was becoming something she was used to rather than the outrage it should have been. Once upon a time, a grade like that would have made her want to curl up inside herself and die.

Her latest Spanish assignment landed on her desk with a slap and Rachel barely glance down at it, expecting to see the large red letter glaring back up at her, but instead of a grade, she saw a biro scrawl and it was enough to catch her attention for the couple of seconds it took to read it. _See me. _Great. She had finally done so badly that she was going to need extra help; but then, it was not like she had anything better to do.

When the bell rang for the end of class, Rachel had no idea what Mr Schue had been talking about, other than it had something to do with Spanish and she was sure the rest of the class must have noticed the absence of her hand waving in the air every two seconds, but had not missed it. Why on Earth would they? Most people were probably glad for the change in her, it meant she was less annoying, less _there. _At least she didn't have to pack up her things if she was staying after class, that was one bit of effort she didn't have to exert.

Mr Schue waited until the rest of the class had finished trailing out of the room before he pulled up a chair beside Rachel, and she barely looked up when he did. She was trying to summon the energy to spend the next half hour or so looking like she was listening. She turned her attention to her teacher, trying to focus for at least the first few minutes, as that was the time she was most likely to be expected to respond.

"Rachel, do you know why I want to see you?" He asked, and she was surprised to hear the absence of anger in his tone. She had expected a lecture first on how she was letting her grades slip, not trying hard enough, had to straighten up and fly right...on and on and on until she would feel like hitting him, but the look in his eyes wasn't one of disapproval, it was something that Rachel wasn't used to seeing. Concern.

She nodded. "You want to talk to me about how cr- erm, how my grades have gone down." No matter how much she no longer cared about anything, Rachel knew it would not be wise to start cussing in front of a teacher unless it became absolutely necessary. She almost wished he would yell at her so she would have an excuse to rip into him right back and release some of the scream inside her that had built up since that morning as soon as she had opened her eyes.

"Yes and no. I am interested in that, but I'm not here to give you a lecture or tell you how to do it, because I know that you know. You can do this stuff Rachel, you have done so many times before. What I do want to know if why you won't." Rachel shifted in her seat, wishing she was in the crowd outside. She had thought she'd get a lecture she could tune out of, or an extra Spanish lesson that wouldn't make the slightest difference. Instead, she was expected to answer questions, questions she could not even figure out herself.

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know Mr Schue, I just don't see the point."

"The point, Rachel," he said, gently. "Is so you can graduate high school and get a place at college. I know you don't need a Spanish grade to get into Juilliard, but you've always cared about academics and it's very rare I say this to a student, but sometimes too much. This just isn't like you."

Rachel turned away from her teacher, allowing her hair to fall around her face so he didn't see the tears that escaped her eyelids and leaked silently down her cheeks. "The point is, Mr Schue," she said, stiffly, echoing his words, "is I don't _want _to be like me." With that, she scraped back her chair and stalked right out of the room, almost like her old self, but her head stayed down and her shoes clicked almost silently against the hard tile floor.

…

For the first time since her break up with Finn, Rachel didn't sit away from the others in Glee. Instead, she chose a seat next to Puck, the only person who could possibly understand, to some degree, how she was feeling. Of course he could never truly get it, he wasn't lumbered with the daily taunts from everyone around him, he wasn't constantly reminded of how ugly and worthless he was, but like her, he had been falsely accused of something the entire school believed.

Puck was the only person who didn't taunt her, the only one who at least acknowledged her with a nod when she walked into rehearsal and didn't immediately shoot down all her ideas just because they were coming from her. He actually listened, and she couldn't tell him just how much she appreciated it without him making a gag face and telling her to cut the girly crap, but she wanted him to know that he actually made her feel worth something.

"S'up Berry, you decided to come back to us then?" He said, casually, like she had done nothing more than take a short break from Glee to go on holiday with her dads.

"Not exactly Noah," sighed Rachel, "but I'm trying." Even Rachel didn't know how much truth was in her words. She didn't know why she was sitting with Puck, it certainly wasn't going to help the rumours, but she was so past caring and she needed him. At least he was someone she could talk to without them not so subtly wishing they were somewhere else.

Mr Schue was droning on at the front of the choir room, talking about something Rachel was not tuned into. The mention of her name was just about enough to get her vaguely listening, just in case she was required to respond. Her mask had long since slipped, but she didn't want everyone to see just how empty she had truly become. At least some pretence of normality was needed.

"Rachel, do you have any suggestions for us?" _Suggestions for what? _Rachel blinked at Mr Schue, dumbfounded. What had they even been talking about? Sectionals had passed...so perhaps they were on Regionals. As far as she was aware, there was not yet a set list, so perhaps that what he was asking, her opinion on a set list. Rachel opened her mouth to say she didn't know, but she'd give it some thought, but Santana cut in first.

"Do you know what your problem is Rupaul?" She snapped. Rachel closed her eyes for the briefest of moments before turning to face her, her shoulders already slumped before the weight of the taunt had been added. Santana stared right back at her, her mouth open as if to say something nasty, but for several seconds, she just stayed staring and Rachel saw something flash through the other girl's face that she did not recognise.

"No, do you want to know what your problem _really _is?" There was still an edge to Santana's voice, but something in her tone had changed, but Rachel couldn't quite figure it out and she didn't have the energy to think on it. She was sure she was about to find out anyway. "Your problem is you look so fucking sad all the time and if any of you repeat this to anyone outside of this room I'll deny it, but even ripping it out of you is no fun anymore, I feel like I'm kicking Bambi."

It was Rachel's turn to stare. It was the closest to apologising Santana had ever come, and she had not even said she was sorry as such, more of she wanted Rachel to be happy again so she could knock her back down without feeling bad about it.

"What's your point, Santana?" She said, flatly. Santana rolled her eyes in a way that said her next words caused her great pain to admit.

"I lied okay?" She looked around at the rest of the Glee Club. "I never saw Man Hands doing anything with Puck, he has better taste than that and I'm only admitting it because I want her back to her annoying, bossy self so I can go back to my favourite past time."

A stunned silence fell through the room as Santana's voice faded out. Everyone stared at her as if she had just announced she was a lesbian, even the anger did not set in. Rachel waited to feel the relief, happiness even that the lie was finally over and she might have a shot at going back to how her life used to be, but nothing came. She was getting used to that, not feeling what she should. Before all the eyes of the Glee Club could shift to her, Rachel got to her feet and walked calmly from the room with no idea of either where she was headed to, or what it was, exactly, that she was running from.

**Reviews are really appreciated. So's sleep, which I should do. I have to be up in four hours. **


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologise for any mistakes in this, it is past three in the morning and it's results day tomorrow. This is to take my mind off how much I've failed. **

Rachel's feet clanked heavily against the floor as she broke into a run with no real destination, she just knew she had to be away from there before everything started. The questions, looks, apologises, she just didn't want to deal with it all. She knew she should be happy, Santana had finally confessed to lying, and although she had done it in a typical Santana fashion, without acting as if she actually cared, it could mean another shot for her relationship with Finn. Rachel would be happy if that was what she wanted anymore. She would have been happy a month ago, but now she just didn't care. She finally wanted so little it was so hard to even drag herself out of bed in the morning.

The sound of heavier footsteps started behind her, and Rachel ran faster. She was in no mood to talk to anyone, but by the sound of those footsteps, the person they belonged to was. They sped up with hers and didn't seem to care that she was blatantly trying to get away from them. It wasn't long before the pain began to creep up her legs as she tried to work them harder than they had been expected to in weeks, she barely worked out anymore and the previous night's cuts were stinging painfully. She knew she wouldn't be able to run much longer, but the footsteps were still behind her and growing ever closer.

A hand closed around her arm, tugging her backwards so that she stumbled into the person with the footsteps and she couldn't help but feel a slight relief at the small build of who she fell into. At least that meant it wasn't Finn, she could just about deal with someone, as long as it wasn't him. Rachel turned at last to face the person who had followed her all the way down the hall and out of the front doors (when had _that _happened?).

Once he had her attention, it seemed that Kurt didn't know what to do. He did nothing but look at her and chew on his bottom lip, like he were preparing to ask her out. "Why did you run like that?" He said at last, his eyes flickered up and down her tiny frame, drinking in how her clothes hung from her looser than ever and the dead things in her eyes that had once been shining stars embedded into her.

Rachel shook her head and pulled her arm out of Kurt's grip, but she did not run away again. She couldn't even if she wanted to, her leg felt as if it were on fire, and her stomach was stinging painfully enough to tell her she had opened some of the more recent cuts. "Why are you here, Kurt?" She said, ignoring his question. "You haven't been playing the concerned friend role in these past weeks, so what is it you wish to obtain from me now?"

A flicker of recognisation surged through Rachel as she saw the familiar hint of the person she used to be coming though. Not the one that was pushing Kurt away and more or less telling him to leave her alone, but the one who did not simply say 'go away'. Apparently, Kurt saw it to, as the corners of his mouth twitched into the smallest smile.

"I care about you Rachel," he said, as if it were obvious. "I know I've not been the first to show it in these past weeks, but Finn's my brother and I thought you had done those things with Puck. Who, by the way, refused to let Finn be the one to chase you." At least Puck had always been there for her. Not that he had much choice on whose side he took, it would have taken a very convincing story of drugging for him to have fallen for it.

A soft sigh escaped Rachel's lips that didn't come anywhere close to expressing how she felt and she allowed her legs to collapse carefully from underneath her, half falling, half sitting gracefully down on the grass they had stopped on. Without hesitation, Kurt sat down beside her, and the want for him to go away lessened slightly, partly as she realised it was futile, and partly because some small piece of her appreciated the company.

"If you want an update on the drama, which the Rachel Berry I know most certainly would, the whole place was insane when I left. Puck was busy restraining Finn who was practically launching himself at the door after you, Mercedes was threatening to knock Santana's pearly white teeth from her poisonous mouth, Mr Schue was struggling in vane to get everyone to calm down and Brittany was trying to telepathically communicate with her cat to tell him she might be late home."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Rachel's lips as the scene unfolded in her imagination. She could have predicted the reactions herself, but still felt a flutter of appreciation towards Mercedes. No one besides Puck had ever bothered to defend her in the past. She just wished one of them had been willing to show the same support when she was begging someone to believe her side of the story. Had not one of them realised it sounded nothing like anything she would ever do? No only was she, as Santana put it, 'frigid', but cheating just wasn't her. When she was in the fourth grade, she rewrote a whole paper after getting an A because she realised one of her ideas had originally come from a conversation with her dads.

Kurt's fingers slipped through Rachel's, clasping her hand tightly as he sensed her need for a lifeline. At his mom's funeral, his dad's hand had been enough to reassure him that as hard as things were going to be, the two of them would be all right, and he hoped the gesture would do the same for Rachel now. She had that far away glazed look in her eyes that he was so unused to seeing on her, she was always so determined and focused, but lately she had become someone else. Someone Kurt neither recognised or particularly liked.

"What are you thinking?" Asked Kurt, gently. That was another thing that was different about Rachel, she no longer as easy to read. Sure, everyone could tell she was sad, withdrawn, not her old self at all, but that was the extent of it. She no longer showed the world with her expression exactly what was going through her head. Kurt had found that part of her annoying at the time, to him, it was part of the reason people liked to rip it out of her so much, because they could see when she was vulnerable, but it was clear she was vulnerable now and he didn't like it one little bit. He felt like he was closed out of a secret he needed to know.

Rachel shrugged, the absence of a long, wordy and emotional answer not going unnoticed. "I don't know. I thought I'd be relieved but I'm not. I'm just sad that no one could see it before. Why did you all believe Santana over me? You know what she's like and you know I'm not the sort to do that," a ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "Especially not with Noah, can you imagine the kids?" Kurt smiled too, imagining little Rachel mini mes running around with Puck's Mohawk.

"It's not that we believed Santana, it was Finn we all heard the news from. He seemed so sure, he was furious Rachel, I've never seen him like that, not even when he found out Quinn's child wasn't his. He just came into my bedroom raving about you and Puck and by the next morning it was all over the school, no one was sure where it had originally come from. When I asked him, he said he just _knew. _If I had known where the information originated from, I would have questioned its truth."

Rachel nodded. She had no reason not to believe Kurt, and that was the way of High School, once one person knew, everyone did and as rumours did, it would have been twisted, had bits added to it, most likely not in her favour and anyone who had doubted the story when they first heard it would soon be convinced. By the end of the week, the entire school were probably swearing they had seen the two of them together at one point or another.

"But Finn knew," she said, eventually. "He knew it came from Santana and I tried to tell him she was lying, but he didn't believe me. Why would he do that Kurt? Why would be believe my tormentor over me, someone he knew had been out to get me since she very first clapped eyes on me, yet he trusted every word that came out of her mouth, even when it contradicted mine. Clearly, he doesn't trust me, and what is a relationship without trust? I don't know if I can trust him now, of course I know he would never betray me, but how do I know he won't accuse me of sleeping with the next guy who dares to glance in my direction-"

She was interrupted from her rant by Kurt's chuckle and immediately looked up at him, offended at his insensitivity. "Sorry," he said, catching sight of her expression. "It's just, for a moment there, you were the old you."

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly uncomfortable. No one liked the old her, she had tried her best to get rid of her over the weeks, and when she had refused to leave, Rachel had simply retreated into silence, saying nothing unless directly spoken to. Of course, that also meant she avoided awkward conversations and having to use up much energy in general, but those were just added bonuses. After Finn had said the things he did, she just didn't want to be _her. _

"It's a good thing, Princess," said Kurt, lightly, giving her hand a squeeze. "And as for my Neanderthal brother, I don't know what goes on in that head of his. He's just so overly paranoid since everything with Quinn, and he saw a few things between you that held nothing more than friendship, but that combined with Santana's poisonous lies had his brain gearing up for a confrontation. I don't think it even crossed his mind she could be lying."

Rachel smiled again, but that time, it was more than a flicker. It was a smile that reached her eyes and she leaned her head against Kurt's shoulder and squeezed his hand back, feeling for the first time in weeks, like she wasn't alone.

…

A loud knock echoed through the lonely house as Rachel lay alone on her bed, gazing at the ceiling as if it held all the answers and advice she so longed for. The weight on her shoulders had lifted, just slightly, following her conversation with Kurt, it was nice to know not everyone had believed Santana, to them, it had just been a confirmed rumour from nowhere and since Rachel had never actively tried to deny it in front of them, it was the only story they had. It was nice, as well, to feel as if she had _someone. _Even if that someone could not necessarily be counted on as much as she would have hoped, it was a heck of a lot better than no one.

Rachel did not get up to answer the door immediately. She'd left Kurt just half an hour ago, and he seemed to be the only one likely to call for her. The person she was going to have to tell her dads were out of town for the week could wait for the news. Or not get it at all, it didn't matter to her, if it was that important, the stranger would already know. Finally, when she had ignored it for several minutes and the knocking grew louder and more frantic, accompanied by the shrill ringing of the doorbell, Rachel rolled off the bed and headed downstairs.

Her heart sank as she pulled open the door to be greeted by Finn hovering awkwardly on the doorstep with his hands shoved in his pockets. He was slouched over and his eyes were studying the floor rather than her. Rachel had a sudden urge to lecture him on posture and the correct way to behave when visiting someone, or at least tell him to make eye contact, but that part of her died after just moments of lingering inside. That was something she would have done _before _everything had fallen apart. When Finn was still hers to nag.

Another urge washed over her as suddenly as the first one had, only this time, it remained. It was the urge to slam the door right in his face and head back to her room, forget that he had ever been there and blank him just as he had been blanking her in all the weeks they had been apart. He didn't deserve the time of day he had never given her, but the polite hostess inside her told her this would not be acceptable. Whatever Finn had done, he was there and obviously had something to say, so the polite, moral thing to do would be to hear him out.

Reluctantly, Rachel opened the door wider and stepped aside, silently inviting him in. That was a part of her that had changed. The Rachel she had been before would have greeted him with enthusiasm, insisted he come right in and take a seat then offered to make him all manner of snacks and refreshments until he laughed at her and told her to stop being such a mother hen and sit down so they could start the evening.

Finn finally looked up at her as he walked inside, glancing up and down her body as if expecting some drastic change. If that was what he had hoped for, he was in for some disappointment, Rachel might have never felt further from herself, but that didn't mean she was going to let the whole world know it. The Glee Club didn't count, they spent enough time with her to see the cracks, and they were the only ones likely to actually care, but the rest of the world took one look at her normal short dresses and skirts with her knee socks and assumed she was as bossy and annoying as ever.

"Hi," Finn greeted, lamely, and Rachel was hit by yet another urge to roll her eyes. Hi? After weeks of them not speaking and him treating her as if she were some sort of leper and all he had to say was a friendly acknowledgement.

"Finn," Rachel replied, flatly. "What can I do for you?" He frowned then, noticing the absence of the bounce in her voice.

"Well, I was kinda hoping we could talk," he mumbled, sheepishly, stealing another glance at his ex to check her facial expression, which remained free from daggers. He hoped that meant she wasn't too mad. Or maybe she just didn't care anymore.

Rachel shrugged. "You can do all the talking you like Finn, it's a free country and I am the last person who will silence anyone's voice having felt the frustration that comes with not being listened to." Finn wanted to both grin and flinch at the same time. That was the Rachel he knew and loved, the girl who used five words when one would do and constantly berated anyone who would listen about how she was never listened to. But the part of him that wanted to flinch wondered if it had been a deliberate dig.

"I..I just wanted...well I," Finn sighed in frustration and fixed his gaze on her once again. That time, it remained there for more than just a couple of seconds. He watched the way she stood, her arms crossed protectively over her stomach, staring back at him but with none of the bright expression he remembered on her. Her face was pretty much blank, filled with an emptiness that she was not a part of. "I'm sorry Rach."

Rachel smiled, a faint flicker of the large, over enthusiastic grin that used to regularly take up the space on her entire expression, but now it was barely there. It didn't even ignite the light in her eyes. It was a long while before she spoke, and every moment made Finn more and more nervous. It wasn't often there was silence when he was with Rachel.

"I know you are Finn, it wasn't hard to work out when I saw your face after Santana's confession, and Kurt told me afterwards of how you had to be physically restrained from chasing romantically after me as I fled from the choir room." She stopped, but Finn suspected she hadn't finished. He could count on one hand the amount of times Rachel had actually thought about what she was going to say before she spoke, but that was just another of the many changed in her he'd noticed since he arrived.

"I have turned this moment over and over in my head," she admitted, truthfully. "Many times I have dreamed of you realising your mistake and coming rushing over here to beg for my forgiveness and vow to spend eternity making it up to me somehow, but it isn't like that. You didn't realise this all by yourself. Santana told you. She told you what I've been trying to say for weeks, but wouldn't listen. What I don't understand, the part I have really struggled with over these weeks is why you listened to _her _over me, I am many things Finn, but I have always been one to be honest, too honest a lot of the time and Santana- well, I don't think this is the first lie she's ever told."

Finn wanted to look away from the hurt that was beginning to spread across her features, a part of him preferred the emptiness. He wished she would shout at him and throw things like a normal person, but although Rachel was theatrical and darn scary when she was angry, she was so rarely furious when she had every right to be.

"It wasn't just Santana," Finn tried to explain, the frustration seeping into his tone, but it was not directed at her. It was frustration at himself, because she was right. Why had it taken Santana to admit she was lying for him to finally prick up his ears and listen? "I saw the two of you at the beach, and I'm still so paranoid after Quinn...I knew you would never do that to me Rach, and that's the only thing that stopped me bawling the you both out right there and then, but then she said she'd actually _seen _you, and it was like I had no space for anything else in my head. It was just taken up by you with _him _and so clouded with this anger."

Rachel closed her eyes, the conversation she had longed for had turned in a way she wasn't expecting it to. In her dreams, she had always listen to Finn's somehow extremely reasonable explanation and fallen into his arms like nothing rough had ever passed between them, but in reality it wasn't happening that way. It wasn't as if she hadn't forgiven him, she had never really been angry in the first place, just hurt. So hurt, that he wasn't making it any better, his explanations meant nothing because he hadn't listened to hers.

"It's not just that you didn't believe me, it's what you said." Emotion had finally found its way into Rachel's voice, which crackled slightly with the tears she struggled not to spill. "You didn't have to be so mean, no matter how mad you were. I didn't think you were capable of saying those things, I have come to expect it from the others, but not you Finn."

At the sight of the tears that filled her eyes, Finn wanted to stride right over there and hug her, let her cry into his chest like she had done in the past, he wanted to comfort her like he had always been able to, but he no longer had the right.

"I'm so sorry, I should never have said those things, any of them, I know how they hurt you-"

"No," she interrupted, quietly. "You have no idea." She thought of the deep scars that still had not faded, scored there on the same day he had accused her of cheating with his best friend and the many deep cuts, the painful words that had followed it, scarring new patches of skin and although not all were there because of him, he was the one who had made her just stop caring. Before the break up, she thought of stopping. Before the break up, she cared how deep she went and how many cuts she made. Afterwards, it just didn't matter anymore.

"Could you please just go?" Asked Rachel, softly with none of the anger she should have been feeling. "I want to be on my own."

For a moment, Finn thought of protesting. She did not seem in any state to be left alone, and he longed so much to stay with her and tell her over and over again that he was sorry, that he loved her, until she took him back. But her eyes were large and pleading and he had always loved her eyes. They were so warm and bright, unlike Quinn's small cold ones, they held all her emotions and he could read her though them, just like she were a book. So against his better instincts, Finn gave her one last hesitant smile before heading out of the still open door, forcing himself not to look back.

As soon as he was gone, Rachel flung the door shut behind him and raced up to her room, just one thought on her mind. Well, many thoughts were on her mind, all biting and scratching, but there was one that dominated above all, one that would result in all the others being chased away. She rushed into her room as if she had just seconds to administer a life saving injection and seized her deodorant from her desk.

The lid came off just as frantically, but as soon as the blades fell into her hand, one with specks of blood still staining it from the previous night, she stopped. Now that they were there, and she could have the relief and proof of her pain within seconds if she wanted to, the urge was not as strong. It was still _there, _and if it had been any other day, she would have gone right ahead and done it. But she could not force the image of Finn's puppy dog eyes from her head, and that was just when he had seen the hurt in hers. If he knew what she was doing to herself, the look would be more than she could stand.

Then, perhaps someone who did deserve a second thought came into her mind. Kurt and his light hearted way of putting things that had managed to wake her smile from the dead earlier that day. And Puck, her friend Noah who had always been there, he had stood by her, not caring about the rumours that began to spread about him. He didn't even care when he began to get slushie facials for 'dating Fag Spawn' and it was his semi friendship that had stopped her falling so far into herself that she was unreachable.

Before she could change her mind again, Rachel opened her fingers and allowed the blades to slip through them and fall silently to the soft carpet floor.

**Is that a glimmer of hope I detect? I think I will challenge myself to write something happy next, although not all my Glee fics are doom and gloom. Again, I'd really love it if you could review. **

**I don't know whether to make this Finchel or not now. I now have two endings in mind and don't know what one to go for but it seems Finchel is no longer popular. Oh, and I didn't fail all my AS exams. I'm allowed back for year 13 :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm more awake as I write this chapter. Not much, though, so I still wouldn't bet on anything award worthy. This chapter could also be triggering. In fact, just assume from now on that every chapter may trigger in some way. **

The ascending sound of her phone ringing dragged Rachel away from her exhausted slumber, and she groaned, making the snap decision to let it ring off. But the phone insisted, growing louder and louder, signalling a message. With a groan, Rachel reached for it without opening her eyes, she pressed her thumb down on a random button to shut up the sound and reluctantly squinted at the screen.

**New message from Kurt: Go to your wardrobe, find an outfit that causes the least crime to fashion and put it on. Turn yourself into the gorgeous diva I know and love and be ready for my presence in half hour. **

For a moment, Rachel thought he had gone crazy. What on earth was he doing coming to her house at 6.00am on a Saturday morning? But another glance at the screen told her it was actually past nine. _Nine? _Since when did she sleep so late, even on a weekend? With an exhausted sigh, Rachel forced herself to sit up. She knew there was no way out of seeing Kurt, once he got something into his head, he wouldn't take no for an answer, and he knew she wasn't exactly going to be tied down with her storming social life.

With a quick glance at her bathroom door, Rachel considered a shower, but if Kurt was going to be there so soon, she knew she would never have time. She couldn't be bothered anyway, the very thought took up what little energy she had. It was more than just-woken-up tiredness that clung to her as she rooted through her wardrobe for her least offending garments, it was an exhaustion that ran through both her bones and brain, making everything ache and clouding her mind.

The doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes later, and Rachel had just finished putting the finishing touches to her hair, leaving it down but straight, making a little effort for Kurt's sake. She didn't want him to know that diva was barely inside her anymore. She walked down the stairs slowly, basking in the last few moments she wouldn't have to flash her show face and act like she actually wanted to do whatever he had planned. She hoped he would want to stay in, at least then she could put on _Funny Girl _and allow her mind to wander freely.

The smile was already plastered on her face as Rachel pulled the door open to greet her friend, but to her surprise, at the sight of Kurt standing in his normal designer outfit and well groomed hair, she felt snippets of a real smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He immediately pulled her towards him for a hug which Rachel gratefully received, leaning into him and returning the embrace tightly, craving the contact.

"Morning Princess," he chirped over her shoulder. He pulled away and held her at arm's length, his hands still on her shoulders as he studied her hair and outfit carefully. Without as much thought as Kurt would have liked her to put into it, Rachel had selected a black polka dot dress and ordinary ankle socks with a pair of black flats. After a few drawn out moments, he sighed and let her go. "Well you're not going to outshine Kate Moss any time soon, but I suppose it's adequate."

Rachel rolled her eyes and stepped outside the door, not bothering to call out that she was going. If anyone was in the house, which she doubted, they wouldn't worry too much about where she was going, as long as she called if she was going to be out after dark. Kurt shot her a curious look as she closed the door behind her and locked it, just in case, but he didn't ask any questions.

"So were are you taking me?" Asked Rachel, trying her best to sound as cheerful as he looked and they walked down her driveway. She found, it was not as hard as it should be. Kurt slipped his arm through hers as they walked, leading her along.

"We're going to breakfast," he announced, with a spring in his step. "Of course my brother wanted to come along when he heard I was going to see you, but I told him it was strictly girls only." Rachel squeezed his arm gratefully and smiled again, appreciating Kurt's realisation that she needed space. Finn was his brother, and he could easily side with him in the matter.

The café was practically bursting when they entered, apparently, half of Lima had the same urge to eat breakfast out that morning, but Rachel was grateful for the noise, it meant she could talk freely to Kurt without eavesdroppers. A quick scan around the place told her no one else she knew was around, it was mainly filled with lorry drivers grabbing a coffee and a bite to eat before getting back on the road, and working mums who had no time to make something themselves. Some of them looked as tired as she felt, leaving her wondering what the normal time was for one to get up on a Saturday. Usually for her, it was six, the same time she awoke on a school day.

She and Kurt placed their orders and began a hunt for an available table to sit down at and wait for their food. There was one left in the far corner, right by the window, and to Rachel, there was no better place to sit. It was out of the way and secluded, to many of the customers, they would be invisible and invisibility was something Rachel found herself craving all the more in the recent weeks.

"How has my favourite future Broadway star been since we last spoke?" Kurt asked, as soon as they sat down. Rachel shrugged and flashed him another smile. 'The last time they spoke' had only been the previous night, but he obviously seemed to think something dramatic and life altering had happened since then that she had neglected to mention upon his arrival.

"Desperately trying to avoid your brother while keeping up with my vocal schedule," she lied. _Sitting alone in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling and desperately trying to ignore both my buzzing phone and the soft call of the blades. _

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course, what else would you be doing of a Friday evening," he sighed.

"Don't tell me, you were at the High School Party of 2011 boosting your already outstanding popularity," Rachel grinned, sarcastically. Kurt threw a packet of sugar at her.

A gum chewing waitress dumped Rachel's fruit salad in front of her and came back moments later with Kurt's English muffin with bacon, because apparently, carrying both at once was far too sensible. Rachel wrinkled her nose at Kurt's bacon and nibbled on the end of a piece of apple, finding that as usual, she had little appetite. Kurt, on the other hand, tucked in eagerly and raised his eyebrows at her pitiful meal. It was times like that when she was very pleased for the excuse of a very restricted vegan diet.

The two ate in a companionable silence, listening to the random chatter of those around them. The guy two seats away needed new toner, whilst the woman next to him wondered whether she should call Julie, and if she should wear flats or heels to her office party that night. The teenage boy on the phone was quite possibly arguing with his mother about a boy named Steve, who it seemed, wanted a place to crash that night and the boy had offered their sofa. But then another voice carried to their table. One that froze the orange segment in the air half way to Rachel's lips.

"Hey Rachel, isn't that-"

"Shhh!" Rachel hissed, cutting Kurt off mid sentence. She strained her ears to listen to her mother's voice, at the same time trying to twist her neck to the correct angle for spying on her table without being seen. She realised, when her eyes came to rest on the table several feet away from her own, that she needn't worry. Shelby's back was to her as she fed Beth from a plastic spoon and laughing when it dripped down the baby's chin.

Behind a curtain of hair, Rachel watched the interaction between her mother and Quinn's daughter. She watched her mother stroke Beth's hair affectionately and wipe the escaped food from her chin as the small girl shrieked in delight, as if it were a wondrous game. She listened to her mother talk to Beth as if she were her own age, and not still under the age of one. The baby grinned up at her mother, as if she understood every word she was saying, and Rachel watched the adoring way her mother gazed back at her, like she were the most precious thing on the planet.

Rachel wanted to turn away and resume a conversation with Kurt before she could see or hear anymore, but her eyes were drawn to the scene, almost as if they were being held there by a magic spell that she couldn't escape from, no matter how roughly the sting of rejection tore through her. She told herself her ongoing silence was because she didn't want her mother to hear her and notice they were there.

A hand came to rest on hers and Rachel felt a gentle squeeze on her hand before she heard Kurt's voice. "Don't torture yourself Rachel," he said, softly. "Finish eating and then we can go to the park and start up an impromptu performance of a song of your choice." He was trying to distract her, Rachel knew, but she ignored him, too focused on the nearby table to take in what he was saying.

The gum chewing waitress slouched past her mother's table, looking as if she would rather be anywhere than there, but her face brightened when she saw Beth and she gazed down at the baby with the same look of maternal love that Shelby was wearing.

"What's her name?" Asked the waitress, nodding at the child as Shelby continued to feed her.

"Beth," she smiled, without looking up and Beth's head jerked at the sound of her name, earning another soft laugh from Shelby.

"Is she your first?" Rachel tensed, waiting for her mother's response. She wondered what Shelby would do if the waitress continued to enquire about her, if she would tell her the truth or make something up about lazy teenagers being in bed until all hours of the afternoon.

"Yes," replied Shelby without hesitation and Rachel stiffened, the tears immediately stinging in her eyes. She finally wrenched her eyes away from her mother and her new, _better _daughter and looked back to her salad. She blinked at it a few times before pushing it away and throwing down her fork. Without so much as a glance at Kurt, she pulled her hand away from his and pushed her chair back roughly, no longer caring about being noticed as she practically ran from the café, ignoring Kurt's voice as it shot after her.

As soon as she was out of the café, Rachel broke into a proper run, speeding up when she heard the door swing open again and knew Kurt was following her. He called her name again, a plea in his voice as he shouted at her to stop, claiming he couldn't run in his chosen boots. Rachel ignored him, focused only on putting as much distance between herself and her mother as she could.

It seemed that rejecting her time and time again had not been enough for Shelby. She had to wipe Rachel from her life completely, out of sight, out of mind. To her, she wasn't worth a second thought, let alone a relationship. Was she really so bad that her own mother wished to deny her existence? Hot rejection washed over her again and again as she ran, joined with the pangs of hurt that felt as if someone were literally kicking her repeatedly in the chest, throwing in a few swipes with a knife for good measure.

It seemed that Kurt wasn't kidding about not being able to run, for Rachel found she soon lost him. He wasn't following her by the time she reached her front door five minutes later and fumbled with the lock, trying to insert the key with shaking hands. She flung it shut behind her, making sure to lock it in case Kurt came knocking. The last thing she wanted was him bursting in on her while she was doing it.

Her dads' car hadn't been in the driveway, so Rachel was free to make as much noise as she liked as she raced up the stairs and threw open her bedroom door, the tears finally pouring as she stumbled inside. She flung herself dramatically down on her bed, her fists clawing at the pillow as she cried into it. She crushed it tighter to her chest as the sobs wracked her body, staining the pillow case with black streaks of the light layer of mascara she had applied in an attempt to look more awake.

A sudden rush of white hot anger gripped her, and she was furious. Furious with her mother for rejecting her, tracking her down, rejecting her again and then one last time for good measure. Furious with Finn for not trusting her enough to realise she wasn't Quinn, furious even with Kurt for taking her to the café in which she had seen Shelby and Beth. If he had just left her alone, she would have gone another day without a meeting with her mother and that would have been just fine.

Rachel leapt up from the bed, and with tears still streaming thick and fast, she blindly began to search through her dresser. It didn't take her long to locate the cup, standing upright in the top drawer. She had not been able to bear looking at it each day on display, but she couldn't bring herself to throw it away either. It was the only thing her mother had ever given her, the only sign that she crossed her mind at all. The tape hardly counted, that was only made to be planted so she could string Rachel along only to reject her again.

With a gut wrenching sob, she flung the cup from her into the far wall where it shattered on impact, shards of glass flying in all directions. Rachel watched the pieces fall to the floor, the tears ceasing almost instantly. She felt calmer. She knew what she was going to do. The carpet felt soft underneath her as she knelt down in the glass, being careful to avoid the pieces. She wanted to hurt, but it would be her choice when and where, not an accident.

Rachel studied the fragments that littered her bedroom floor before selecting the piece with two points of a gold star still intact, inspecting the edges to make sure it was sharp enough. Satisfied, she hitched her dress up her thigh and slowly ran the blade along her skin, admiring the beads of blood as they welled up and then dripped down the sides of her legs. She did it again and again until the last sting of rejection had left her and the blood on her leg ran over the words had spelled out with her mother's gift.

_Mommy's Girl. _

**How cheery. Please review. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: this is seriously dodgy, but it was getting on my last nerve so I gave up on it. **

**This chapter gave me the worst hell. It was really slow to write, I couldn't get properly into it and everything I wrote seemed wrong. I don't know how it is now, so I apologise if it's rubbish. **

The locker door slammed shut in front of her, and Rachel swung around, her defences raised, expecting to see Karofsky standing behind her holding a slushie, but instead she was faced with a furious looking Kurt. She swallowed, suddenly apprehensive. She had seen that look on him before, but not recently. It was the same look he used to wear when she was prattling on about why she should have the solo, or telling the rest of them what to do right before he shot her down with an insult about her abnormally sized nose and mouth, her irritating voice or her crazy over grown toddler dress sense.

"Unless your phone, hearing and legs all ceased to work over the weekend and you woke up this morning with the three wondrously restored, there is no excuse for freezing me out for two straight days, Rachel. Especially after running out on me at breakfast." Rachel looked away from him, watching other students mill past, some brushing the back of Kurt's jacket as they went, not noticing him in time to avoid him. Or perhaps they had.

"You're not even listening to me now!" Snapped Kurt and Rachel's gaze shot back to him at his tone. She bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms over her stomach, pushing them into the hidden cuts. The slight sting of pain settled some of the anxiety that fluttered inside her, and she felt braver as she studied Kurt's pissed expression.

"I'm sorry," she managed, more meekly than she would have liked. "I just didn't want to talk to anyone." The part of her that had been irrationally mad at him had lasted for the rest of Saturday, and Sunday had passed by in a blurry haze. She found time did that more and more often, just sped up without warning and hours could pass without her being able to account for a single productive second.

Kurt sighed and pulled her aside out of the way of the surge of students. "What's wrong with you? The Rachel I know would have stayed in that café and not given a second thought to who was sat on the next table, unless it was Barbara Streisand, and she would have answered my calls whatever mood she was in, because she cares about her friends!"

That time, although timidly, Rachel met Kurt's eyes. "I'm sorry," she repeated, sounding stronger. He rolled his eyes and his face softened as he looked into her large, story telling eyes. At the moment, they were sad.

"You don't need to keep apologising," he said, his tone friendlier than it had been. "Just call me next time, at least to let me know you're still alive to torture us with your endless lectures for another day." He smiled and Rachel sheepishly returned it, as if expecting him to fire up again as soon as she dared to show her hope that the argument had passed.

"Come on Princess, we have Glee now and I wouldn't want to deprive you of your spotlight for any longer." Kurt's hand slipped into hers and he pulled her out of their alcove and towards the choir room. Rachel squeezed his hand back, relishing the first physical contact she had had since Saturday. She had always liked to be close to people, for the most part, she was so lonely that just being able to feel someone at her side made her feel as if she might not be so _alone._ Finding friendship in Kurt, Puck and even Finn before everything had fallen apart had helped that, but she still craved the contact.

Rachel made her way down the corridor, feeling lighter than she had done in days, Kurt's hand giving her an extra bounce in her step, along with the thought of Glee and spending the next hour with the closest thing to friends she had. Her small bubble of happiness was short lived when the pair turned the corner to see Dave Karofsky headed towards them, he was apparently alone, and for the life of her Rachel couldn't think what he was doing there. Most students had left to go home and he was heading back _into _school.

As much as his presence was a mystery, Rachel didn't dwell on it for long. She was too busy looking at his face which lit up at the sight of the two of them, but not in a friendly greeting. It was clear by the delighted gleam in his eyes that he wasn't just going to pass them by and go about whatever it was he was there to do and let them go to Glee in peace. On the bright side, he wasn't carrying a slushie.

"Oh look, it's Fag and Fag Spawn," sneered the bully as he passed them, shoving hard into Rachel as he did. It had been a hard shove, and she wasn't expecting it. Add those factors to the size difference between the two and it was enough to send her crashing backwards into the lockers behind, her hand flying away from Kurt's as she did. She managed to keep her balance, just, but the attack was still enough to cause her friend's anger to rise immediately and he glared at Karofsky with a fury he hardly dared to show when it was himself being picked on.

"What, are you such a coward now that you're going to push someone around who's less than half your size?" He yelled, stepping towards Karofsky with much more bravery than he had shown when it was himself on the floor. "Would you ever shove someone like that if they had half a chance of fighting back?" Kurt's voice only got louder as he approached the much larger boy, his eyes alive with fury.

Rather than looking the slightest bit intimidated, Karofsky merely grinned, his eyes gleaming as he too stepped forwards towards Kurt. "It's not her size, more that she's got bits of someone like you in her," he spat, glaring at Rachel who was still sat on the ground against the lockers, staring in shock at the scene unfolding before her.

"It's just as filthy as they are, living in the same house. I think it needs a shower," he continued, and before Kurt knew what he was doing, Karofsky pulled a bottle of lemonade out of his bag and unscrewed the cap in one quick movement. In the next moment, he strode towards Rachel and emptied the contents of it onto her head. She gasped and tried to scramble out of the way, but Karofsky's hand followed her, making sure every drop hit target.

Before Rachel or Kurt could react, Karofsky was suddenly knocked off his feet by someone large and heavy. The attack was so unexpected, that Finn got the first hit in before the bully even knew what was happening. As soon as he got his bearings, Karofsky's fist flew into Finn's chin, almost knocking the other boy off him, but Finn held fast, keeping him pinned to the ground underneath him as he delivered more blows. With a wild shove, Karofsky finally managed to release himself and scrambled to his feet immediately and Finn quickly followed suit.

Rachel gaped at her ex boyfriend and tormentor as they glared at one another, poising to resume the fight. Lemonade dripped through her hair and down her face, her clothes were drenched in it, and she could already feel them sticking to her. She was sticking to herself, her legs gumming themselves together as droplets dried between them. Finn had never so much as defended her by telling Santana to shut up, let alone started a full fledged attack on her strongest tormentor, but now he looked so furious, she wondered if maybe the things that had been done to her in the past had some effect on him after all.

Just as he lunged for Karofsky again, the door down the hall burst open and Mr Schue, followed by most of the Glee Club, rushed out of it. As soon as he saw the two boys, the teacher shot down the corridor to split them up, which Rachel observed, beside Glee Club, seemed to be his main purpose in life.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr Schue yelled, glaring from Finn to Karofsky. Neither of them answered, and Finn had the grace to look ashamed, if still angry.

"This stops now!" Their teacher demanded, pushing them apart. He waited, expecting an answer from someone, but no one spoke. Karofsky continued to glare at Finn, his eyes narrowed and dangerous, whereas Finn's gaze travelled to Rachel, still sat in a pool of lemonade, the drips that fell from her hair and clothes making it grow larger by the moment. Mr Schue's gaze followed him, and he did a double take when he saw Rachel, a flicker of understanding crossing his face.

"Did you do this?" He turned angrily to Karofsky, who looked away, grumbling. His silence was answer enough. "You'll come straight to my office in the morning, David. And Finn, as justified as your anger was, you cannot just go around attacking anyone who does something you don't like,, you'll serve detention with me after Glee tomorrow." Finn opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again at the sight of his teacher's face, and Karofsky, if possible, looked even angrier than before and stormed away down the hall.

"Rachel, are you okay?" He asked, his voice softer. She nodded, but everything else about her claimed otherwise. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, something Kurt noticed she had been doing a lot in the past weeks, and she wouldn't look at any of them. She kept her eyes in the pool of lemonade around her, her back pressed against the lockers and she made no movement to get up. This new silent and still Rachel was nothing like the person they were used to.

Kurt was the first one to make a move. He extended a hand to help her to her feet, and after staring at it for several seconds like he was going to retract it at any moment, she gave him her own in return and he hauled her to her feet. Rachel let go of his hand almost as soon as she was on her feet and put her arms back around her stomach, as if it were somehow going to protect her from the conversation that was sure to follow.

"Can I ask what he did, Rachel?" She was surprised by her teacher's tone. It wasn't one he often used around her, but it made a nice change from his brisk, impatient one and for that reason, she resisted pointing out he technically just did ask, so adding a request for her permission into the question didn't make the slightest difference. She was tempted to simply reply 'no' and head right to the bathroom to clean herself up, but Kurt would probably tell him anyway, so she may as well keep up a pretence of being at least somewhat okay.

"Kurt and I were just heading to Glee Club when he came down the hall. We knew he was to something from the gleam in his eye," Kurt rolled his eyes at her usual dramatic story telling ways. "As he passed us, he slammed into me with such a force that I was thrown backwards into the lockers. Kurt tried to stick up for me, but Karofsky shot him down and came to the decision that I was...well he decided I needed a shower and that was when he tipped the bottle of lemonade on my head."

"He called her Fag Spawn and said she was dirty because of it," chipped in Kurt. Rachel glared at him. And Mr Schue looked shocked.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?"

Rachel wanted to laugh. Often? Of course it happened often. It happened every day right under his nose. It happened in Glee Club, the one place they were supposed to be a family, the place she was supposed to be able to go and be accepted for all that she was and have friends. Be a part of something. It happened whenever someone threw a slushie in her face, which was more and more since she had asked the football team to lay off the rest of the Club and offered herself as sacrifice if they did. It happened whenever Santana or Quinn shot her down, called her names and the people who were meant to be her friends laughed. It happened so much, that it was no longer wrong in Rachel's eyes. It was just normal.

"It's not the first time he's called me that," she admitted, grudgingly. Finn's features contorted and he looked ready to run after Karofsky, but it wasn't as if that was news to him. He had been right _there _last time it had happened and he had shown no signs of wanting to defend her then. Why now? It seemed that everyone was choosing the same moment to care. For the first time, Finn had defended her, and now Mr Schue was finally taking what happened to Rachel every day seriously, as if it were a new development. Why was it that everyone was so willing to care right as she stopped?

Rachel smiled, as if remembering her show face several minutes too late. "I've become used to homophobic prejudice, especially in this town. I'm sure Kurt gets worse than I do. Karofsky is hardly the worst they come," she spouted, trying to sugar coat the situation so he didn't make a big deal out of it. The last thing she wanted was her dads being called into school to be told she was being bullied because of their sexual orientation. Rachel couldn't imagine how that would make them feel. She may be alone in the house a lot, but she knew they cared about her.

Mr Schue's eyes narrowed as he stared at Rachel, as if seeing her for the first time. Where was the girl who had threatened to file a law suit if the students threw fruit at the Glee Club during a performance? Was this really the same person who had gone on strike and taped over her own mouth because of a solo? He knew Rachel, she was over dramatic and fragile. She took every snowflake and made it into a blizzard, and now here she was standing in the middle of a downpour and acting as if it were merely a slight spatter of unexpected rain.

Kurt pressed his hand to Rachel's back and began to lead her away. She obliged, glad for an excuse to get away from the staring eyes of Finn, Mr Schue and the rest of the Glee Club. No one tried to stop them as they walked away, but just before she allowed herself to be lead, Rachel's eyes travelled to Finn to see he was looking at her with the same expression of guilt that she wore on her own face every time she looked at her body and was forced to see what she had done to herself.

**I'm going to end it there because this chapter's doing my head in. **


	7. Chapter 7

**This, again, could be triggering. **

It didn't come as a surprise when Rachel found herself being called into Mr Schue's office the next day as she passed it on her way to her first class. She had thought he'd try and corner her at some point during the day, but had assumed it would be after Glee, or Spanish as lunch was after that. The fact that he was calling her in after she had been in school for just twenty minutes and had just five minutes to get to her first period worried her. It meant he was serious. He was going to question her about what had happened the previous day and everything else he could think of and Rachel's mind was coming up blank of excuses.

For a second, she thought of just running, but then that would make it look as if she had something to hide, and it would be impossible to avoid him forever. The best thing to do was to put on a smile, hide behind her show face and spout something about Karofsky having called her Fag Spawn a couple of times as he had thrown slushie in her face. Nothing serious. She'd pretend she thought nothing of it and just passed his comments off as ignorance and forgot them. He didn't have to know those two words were carved into her left thigh.

The show face was already carefully in place as Rachel entered the office, not too happy, it was first thing in the morning on a school day, looking as if the sun was shining right inside her mouth would be unrealistic, but a small smile lingered on her lips, not enough to really notice, but enough to make a difference to her face. Enough to make her look happy. Mr Schue gestured for her to sit down, looking slightly more relaxed when he saw the look on her face. She was already fooling him and she hadn't even said anything.

"What happened yesterday?" He said, cutting straight to the chase. Rachel blinked and for a few moments, she didn't speak, caught of guard by the sudden question. She had expected it, but not so soon. But with an unfaltering expression and a direct look into her teacher's eyes and she was back on track.

"I told you Mr Schue, Karofsky pushed me over and called me some names, then he tipped the lemonade over my head. Just his usual childishness, nothing I took to heart."

Rachel spoke casually with no cheer in her voice but no sadness either. She spoke as if he was nothing more than a pathetic High School bully that didn't bother her in the slightest. She knew that should be the way. One day, she'd be out of there and a Broadway star, then it wouldn't matter what he thought of her, but every day she was pushed further and further down, her dream seemed like nothing more than a fantasy she told herself to cheer up. Perhaps that was all it ever really was, just like the dream of her mother had been.

"A dream is something that fills up the emptiness inside, the thing that you knew if it would come true all the hurt would go away." That was how Jesse had described a dream, and that's how Rachel had seen the thought of her mother. She was someone Rachel thought of in the times when a glass of water just wouldn't cut it, when her dads were away and she had no one to ask over, in all those times she felt so lonely it was as if she was being eaten up from the inside out. But clearly, the feeling wasn't mutual. All she had been to her mother was a little experiment that she'd given up on as soon as she realised she wasn't going to get the results she wanted. Maybe that was all Broadway was too, a dream. It was never going to live up to her expectations and become a reality.

"...been warned that if anything like this happens again, legal charges could be pressed against him for discriminative assault."

The speech that Rachel had missed came to an end just as she tuned in to her teacher's voice. She could only imagine he was talking about Karofsky and wondered why all this hadn't happened before when Kurt had reported him. Perhaps the previous day had just been one thing too many. She nodded and gave a brief, polite smile before standing to leave, but Mr Schue gestured for her to sit back down. She did so reluctantly, wishing the conversation could be over.

"Rachel, are you sure you're all right? I know David's opinions on these matters aren't the most valued, but it can't have been easy to hear that."

No matter how hard she tried to plaster on her show face, Rachel could not bring herself to look at her teacher as she told such a direct lie. She thought of the scars that covered her body, the very insult Karofsky had shot at her the previous day carved onto her skin, the cold empty loneliness that settled in the core of her heart each morning, the weight of dread on her shoulders that accompanied dawn, the twisted way she saw each action and heard every word and the worthlessness that pressed so hard on her body that she could barely hold herself up. She wanted to take the blackness inside her and rip it out, she wanted to be rid of it in any way she could, because sometimes she felt as if she would rather be dead than live inside her own skin with herself.

"I'm fine Mr Schue," she said, calmly without looking him in the eye. "He'll regret everything one day when I'm a star on Broadway and he's still here working in some fast food restaurant twelve hours a day to scrape together a living." She was starting to grow tired from smiling and pretending, and it had barely been an hour.

"That may be true Rachel, but you've been different lately. You're just not yourself and I haven't forgotten what you said the last time we talked about this."

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again when she realised she didn't have an answer. Why had she said that? Why hadn't she told him she was fine, just over tired and she'd try harder to get her grade up? That would have been the sensible thing to do, the thing that the actress inside wanted her to say, but she'd let her emotions get the better of her. Again.

"I've just been stressing out recently. A lot of my school work has piled up and with Regionals approaching and daily slushie facials, it's just all been getting on top of me, but I'll be okay. I already have a night by night schedule planned on how to get through all my work and preparation." Just one more lie to pile up on all the others she had told.

Mr Schue sighed, unconvinced. "Okay, but if you ever do want a word, my door is always open."

He sounded like someone from a cheesy budget movie, but even Rachel knew it would be rude to say so, so instead she smiled and nodded and thanked him, just as she was expected to do. She walked briskly from his office, but not too fast, she didn't make it look like she was desperate to escape. She walked with the same bounce in her step and the bright smile on her face that she always wore, as if nothing were any different.

Then she saw Finn, and just for a split second, it was as if nothing were. His face lit up with a grin when he caught sight of her and he took a step towards her. But then he remembered. His face fell, the grin sliding off it and he stepped backwards, resuming his place amongst the rest of his football team as if he had never seen her at all. Rachel felt the familiar twist of disappointment in her stomach before she too turned away from him and headed to the one place that still felt like somewhere she belonged.

The auditorium was empty as usual and the creak of the opening door echoed through the large walls. Rachel approached the stage slowly, running her fingers along the walls and chairs as she passed them, basking in the familiarity of the place. Already she felt some of the pain ebb away, this was somewhere she could express her feelings without leaving a scar. She could say all she wanted to without the judgement of others and without letting her show face slip. At least not in front of anyone else.

She already knew what she would sing, and she'd do it without the music. She didn't want anyone witnessing her honesty, not even Brad. He might not speak, but he'd still know. She'd still have to share breathing space with him every day knowing that he knew her secret, and then it would no longer be private, it would no longer be hers. It would be a secret she shared with Brad the piano guy.

Just standing on the stage made Rachel feel more at home than she had done in weeks. It had been such a long time since she sung to herself, a song for her, not something for Glee Club. It wasn't like she hadn't wanted to, she just hadn't known what to sing. Nothing she knew seemed to express the feelings inside her, but inside Mr Schue's office it had come to her. The perfect song. Rachel drew a deep breath to prepare herself and closed her eyes, blocking out the rest of the world so it was simply her and her voice.

_Not a stranger_

_No I am yours_

_With crippled anger, _

_And tears that still drip sore_

_A fragile frame aged, with misery_

_But when our eyes meet, _

_I know you see,_

As she sung, Rachel thought back to Mr Schue and the conversation they had had both in the classroom and his office. She thought of Santana and her reasons for telling the truth. They had called her different. What they didn't seem to understand was that she wasn't different, she was just the way she had always been. They were seeing more of the real her than they had ever seen before, but to them, that girl was a stranger.

_I do not wanna be afraid_

_I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm tired, of feeling so numb_

_Relief exists I find it when_

_I am cut_

That glorious feeling. The one she could only get from a blade. The wonderful freedom as the cold, stone weight lifted from her shoulders, even if just for a limited time. Then, of course, there was always the come down, but it was worth it. Those moments of light giddiness made all the repercussions seem like nothing.

_I may seem crazy_

_Or painfully shy_

_But these scars wouldn't be so hidden_

_If you would just look me in the eye. _

_I feel alone here and cold here_

_Though I don't wanna die_

_But the only anaesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside. _

That was something they would never understand, the crazy. They'd never get that she needed to stay positive and happy all of the time, not just because of the mask, but because otherwise she would drown in the cold, rolling wave of darkness. They'd never understand that she wanted the spotlight all the time and craved all attention because she was so lonely. No one wanted to be near her, no one gave her a chance, no one saw the girl past the winning and competitions and for that reason she could never tell them.

_I do not wanna be afraid_

_I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm tired, of feeling so numb_

_Relief exists I find it when, _

_I am cut_

_I am not alone_

_I am not alone_

The last notes dragged as Rachel belted them with all the emotions she had built up inside her, and even she could hear the raw pain in her voice. Even without an audience, the performance was flawless. Jesse had once told her the only thing wrong with her singing was it lacked emotional depth. Well that one had it all right. It held every emotion she had built up inside, releasing only on her skin for seven years. The longing for the words to be true could be heard in every note. She _felt _alone, even though she had Kurt and even Noah when he was in a good mood, it was like she was living in her very own private world where there was no one to hear her scream.

_Not a stranger_

_No I am yours_

_With crippled anger_

_And tears that still drip sore_

_I do not wanna be afraid_

_I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm tired, of feeling so numb_

_Relief exists I found it when_

_I was cut._

As soon as the final note left her mouth, the exhaustion washed over her, so heavy and sudden that her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed onto the stage. She wasn't sure when she had started to cry, but her cheeks were already soaked with tears and more followed them. But they were tears of relief, tears of overwhelming escaped emotion, tears that proved she was alive and feeling and she did not want to cut to make them go away.

"Berry?" A voice from behind her startled Rachel into stopping the tears immediately and hurriedly wiping away those that had already fallen, but she already knew it was too late. She just hoped her hadn't heard her sing.

"Noah," Rachel greeted in a calm but shaky voice, but it was clear from his face that the damage was already done. He looked shocked and angry and mildly horrified as he jumped up onto the stage and strode towards her.

"What the hell was that," he demanded, in a voice that told her she had better answer.

"I-I was just practising adding emotional depth to my singing," she lied, but the lie sounded feeble and pathetic, even to her. Judging by the eyebrows that immediately shot up Puck's forehead, he thought so too.

"Bullshit," he snapped, bluntly and in one quick movement he pulled her to her feet and pushed up her sleeve before she could even react. Rachel had never been more grateful than she was then that she never cut on her arms, having predicted how obvious a place it would be considering she was often forced to wear short t-shirts and dresses in Glee, not to mention the dance routines they often practised that would surely have her sweating and wishing to remove her jacket. But if she had been hoping that he would forget the matter and assume it had just been a practice song after all, she was in for more disappointment.

"Where?" Puck demanded with the same aggressive edge to his voice she had only ever heard him use on Finn when he was attacking him about not deserving Quinn. He had never spoken to her in that way before, not when he was throwing slushies at her face, not even when she broke up with him.

Rachel said nothing. There was no use in lying, it was clear that he had heard her song and put two and two together, but there was no way she wanted him to see her scars, they were hers and they were private. But his stare was burning a hole right through her and she knew he was mentally picturing her in very little clothing, envisioning where she would make the marks. If the situation weren't so serious she would have taken a moment to marvel at how it was probably the first time he had had that mental image in a non sexual manner.

"Where?" He said again, raising his voice at her for the first time in as long as she could remember.

Rachel's heart began to hammer under her cardigan and for the first time, she understood the wish to be sucked up by the floor and transported anywhere that wasn't there. He knew, Noah, the boy she had known since she was four years old _knew. _He knew her darkest, most well kept secret and she wanted to run from him and never have to face him for the rest of her life because he was staring at her with judgemental, anger filled eyes and she couldn't bear for him to look at her like that, to _think _about her like that.

"Screw this," snarled Puck. He turned away from her angrily and stormed to the edge of the stage before jumping off and landing heavily on the wooden floor, then, without glancing back at her, he walked all the way out of the auditorium and slammed the door behind him. Rachel didn't even try to stop him, she wanted him to leave, it was better that way. For both of them. He didn't need a friend like her.

…

A flutter of fear had settled itself in Rachel's stomach as soon as she had walked out of the school gates, and now she was home, it still hadn't shifted. Her last class of the day had been math, and she'd skipped it. She had actually cut class. That was something Puck did, not her. She'd never cut class in all of her life, and now here she was pushing the key into her front door at half past two, but that wasn't the reason for the fear. The reason Rachel was scared was because she didn't care.

The door slammed shut behind her as she stepped inside, and she almost screamed aloud as soon as she did so. Noah was standing in her hall carrying a cardboard box that Rachel could not see the contents of, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Noah! What are you doing here?" She demanded in the old bossy tone she used to use so much. A glint of amusement flashed through Puck's eyes at the glimmer of the old Rachel and he realised with another jolt of surprise that he had actually missed her bossy craziness. Puck grinned, enjoying winding her up with silence.

Rachel stormed over to him and tried to peer into the box, but he lifted it up out of her sight and she gave a loud sigh of frustration.

"This is private property and I think you'll find you are trespassing. If you do not either leave or give me a good reason why you are here in the next thirty seconds, I will be calling the police." The grin stayed on Puck's face and he remained unphased. He knew she wouldn't do it. The old Rachel might have done, but she was hardly the person she used to be. She wasn't bossy anymore, she wasn't as crazy and she didn't even have any song suggestions for Regionals. Since Santana had told the world she was a lying cow, parts of the old Jewish Princess he knew and loved had been starting to reappear, but she still wasn't _Berry. _

"C'mon, lighten up. I'm being a good helpful Jewish boy," he said, swatting away her hands as she tried to lunge for the box.

"How exactly is breaking into my house helping?" Rachel snapped, glaring at him.

"I'm saving you from yourself," he replied, before turning around and striding towards the kitchen. "I've already covered upstairs and the lounge, just the kitchen to do now, this should be good."

Completely at sea as to what he was talking about, Rachel followed him, hoping to get a glance inside the box he was carrying, which had been lowered to her level, but Puck moved too fast for her to see in it. She followed him into the kitchen, more threats running through her mind as she did so, but none of them came out of her mouth. He clearly wasn't listening to her, it wasn't as if he ever did and she could see no reason he would start now. Especially not as he was angry with her.

Puck had pulled open one of the kitchen draws, from which he pulled a pair of scissors and a nail file and flung them into his box. Rachel blinked in surprise, more confused than ever until she saw him take a knife from the sink and throw that in too, then his intentions hit her full in the gut, bringing with them a surge of panic. She gasped and practically ran to him as he opened another draw and began to empty it of all knives.

"Noah, what on earth do you think you're doing?" She said, trying to sound demanding and authoritative, but she was so afraid of his actions that her voice came out shaky and high pitched, her panic clearly masked inside.

"I told you, I'm saving you from yourself," he grunted as he swept the kitchen once again for anything she could use to hurt herself. He even took the blade from the blender. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"I live here Noah," she snapped, her panic rising as she saw him take the magnet mirror from the fridge. He really had thought of everything, and if he had been there since he left her in the auditorium, he would have had enough time to completely comb her house for anything even remotely sharp. She couldn't let him do it, just the thought of being without her blade scared her more than she even thought possible. Her chest constricted and her throat seemed to close up at having nothing.

"Shouldn't you be in school like a good little Jewish girl?"

Rachel ignored him and lunged for the box, but he pulled it easily out of her reach and threw in a few packets of pills. She opened her mouth to inform him she wasn't suicidal, but before she said anything, she realised she could not put her hand on her heart and swear that was true. She didn't want to die, but he was taking away her blades, the one thing that made everything better and she needed something to banish the dark, rolling wave when singing didn't shift it.

"Noah, please," Rachel begged, and she saw something flash in his eyes at the sound of her pleas, but as soon as it had come, it was gone again and he gave her a cold, hard glare instead.

"You really think I'm just going to let you do this? I may be a bad-ass, but I'm not heartless. Now move," he retorted and pushed her gently out of the way with his free hand, contradicting his tone.

Satisfied that he had everything, Puck began to storm towards the front door, but Rachel ran after him, hanging onto his arm. He couldn't leave. She knew he couldn't leave. Not with her things, with everything that made it better. But he was walking out of the door with all she had in his arms and each time she went to stop him, he just swatted her away as if she were nothing more than an annoying fly. She couldn't stop him as he walked towards the door. She couldn't stop him as he stormed right out of it. She couldn't stop him as he opened his car door. She couldn't stop him as he got in his car and took her security with him.

"Noah!" She shrieked after his car as it rolled out of the driveway. Her heart was banging in her chest and the cold dread was rising up in her stomach and she knew it wouldn't stop. She knew it was going to just keep rising until it had forced everything out of her and then she would want to cut because that was the only way she knew how to make an opening for it to all escape.

"Later Berry," Puck called out of his open window as his car left the driveway and sped up, disappearing along the end of the road, taking her entire life with him.

**Review? Please? **


	8. Chapter 8

**This was inspired by a nightmare I just woke up from. It is 3.57 in the morning and I have had little over two hours sleep, so I apologise for any suckage. Next time I want to drink, I will remind myself this is what happens and hopefully opt for lemonade instead. Like pretty much every chapter, this one comes with a trigger warning. **

_Laughter. Cold, cruel and manic, it rang bodiless through the walls of her bedroom. It was not a voice she recognised, but strange and unknown and that just made it all the more terrifying. She could not seek comfort in the thought of familiarity. It did not speak, but the laughter grew louder and higher, becoming almost childlike in pitch. It sounded closer. It had not even been in the room to begin with, but now she heard it right outside her bedroom door. The sound closed in on her, louder and more haunting by the second. _

_Terrified, Rachel lunged for the duvet to whisk it over her head. She was mature enough to know such childish night time habits would be little protection, but she was too afraid to care. But as much as she tried to make her arms move, they would not obey the commands of her brain. They remained firmly by her sides and the duvet somewhere around her waist. With a gasp of panic, Rachel tried frantically to move her legs, her feet, her hands, any part of her body. She could not so much as close her eyes to shut out the darkness around her that had become so suddenly threatening and haunted. _

_The laughter came closer, right inside her room. Without the aid of light, Rachel knew there was no body to the voice. It was just the laugh; crazy, childish laughter that should have been innocent, but was twisted with the cruel taints of evil. There was something in that laugh that she did not want to meet, without having to know a single other thing about it rather than the way it sounded to her ears, the way it chilled her every bone, Rachel knew she didn't want it to find her. She had to move, get as far away from the soulless sound as she ever could. _

_But the more she tried to move, the more she was frozen, lying on her back in her own bed, the place she once felt so safe was now her own death trap, the last place she would be as the creature with the laugh took her. The comfort of the bed was deceptive, it lured her into a false sense of security, the large warm duvet acting as a protector, but not it was betraying her and something once so comforting turning in such a way scared Rachel almost as much as the laughter. _

_Without any knowledge of what was causing the sound, Rachel knew without a doubt it was going to kill her. And it was there. The sound was right beside her ear, so close it tickled the inside. She tried to scream, but just like the rest of her body, her voice was frozen. No one would hear her anyway. She was alone, alone in the terrifying darkness with the presence of evil and she was going to die just like that. Alone and petrified. _

…

The tears were already on her face when her eyes snapped open, and she felt the urge like an itch before she was even properly awake. She needed it, she needed to feel the pain, she needed to push the dream, _that sound, _out of her head because otherwise she was going to lie awake, and when she was awake her mind wondered.

It wondered to all the things she didn't want to think about, everything she did her best to push out of her mind. When she was awake she heard all the taunts, she saw the comments left on her my-space page flashing through her mind, she heard her mother's voice, all the rejections over and over, and in those hours in the dark, Rachel felt as if she were literally breaking, like a sharp blade was tearing all the way through her insides. Putting the blade to her outside would blunt the one on the inside.

Puck would kill her if he found out, but if she didn't do it, she would lie awake and hear those things, until eventually, she might be able to cry herself to sleep. Her blades would chase that hurt away, silence those voices and give Rachel peace in her mind. Peace enough to sleep, to focus her mind on what she wanted it to be on, her Broadway dreams, hopes of a better life and the vision of one day giving her acceptance speech for a Tony award and telling the story of her struggles in High School, maybe even of this night. If she could imagine that, she would sleep.

Not for the first time, Rachel was grateful her dads were away. If they were asleep in the next room and she had to be as silent as possible, that would make all of this a lot harder. With them gone, she could make all the noise she wanted. She started in her room, searching through her draws, under her bed, even in her en-suite bathroom, but it seemed Noah really had thought of everything. She could not even find a sharpened piece of plastic, or something to snap. Even her straightening irons were gone.

Briefly, Rachel considered burning herself under the tap, or even with the kettle, but it was not the pain she needed. It was the pressure of something pressing into her skin, the feeling of it gliding across, she needed the opening for all the bad feeling, all the voices to escape through and let the calm in. She needed to see it, right there on her skin, obvious that she had done it to herself because then she would have something to hide, and it was that which gave her the power. A secret kept to herself over everyone who tormented her, they pushed her down, both literally and with their words and her own private way of hurting herself, of keeping the secret and hiding it every day was the only form of power she had over them.

It was not until she reached her dads' room that Rachel found what she was looking for. When she was younger, and their jobs had been less demanding, or at least less demanding than having a young daughter, Rachel had spent every evening and weekend with at least one of them, doing various activities for her entertainment. When they weren't taking her to clubs and classes, there was a phase of craft, and for that, her dads had brought a full craft set, complete with knives. Of course Rachel hadn't been allowed to use them, but the box was still in their everything draw, buried under mounds of other things and it was the one place Puck hadn't thought to check.

As soon as her hand closed around the handle, Rachel felt the calm begin to set in. She was safe again, she had something to chase away the restless pain. With a much less frantic pace than before, Rachel headed towards the bathroom and closed the door behind her, she knew no one else was in the house, but somehow it felt more private with the door closed, more like hers. She even closed her eyes as she dragged the knife across her skin, falling into her own private world of darkness.

Twenty seven minutes later, and her arm had not stopped bleeding. She had never done it there before. It was new, a clean, fresh canvas for her to paint whatever she liked on. Only the bright, clean patch had been all too appealing, and she had cut deeper than she was meant to. The blood had begun as a steady flow, but it wasn't letting up. All Rachel could do was press an already blood soaked towel to the wound and pray that it would soon stop.

…

A heavy banging woke her up. It forced her eyes open, even as she tried to ignore it. She blinked, momentarily confused at waking up on the bathroom floor before she remembered the previous night. She had fallen asleep shortly after wrapping a towel around her arm, exhausted. Light shone through the bathroom window, soaking the room in a grey glow. From her place on the floor, Rachel could the late signs of morning glimmering outside. It should be dark. It usually was when she got herself out of bed for her morning exercise ritual, that had been happening less and less in the past months.

Weakly, Rachel hooked one hand over the sink to pull herself up, her legs shaking slightly as she did so. She felt drained, as if someone had taken her all her energy and replaced it with an emptiness. Her arm was stinging painfully, and hesitantly, Rachel gazed down at it. The towel she had wrapped in the very early hours of the morning was soaked in blood, the once blue material had been stained a strange purple brown colour. In many places, the blood remained wet.

There was a gentle knock at the bathroom door, startling Rachel out of her exhaustion. She whirled around on the spot and stared at the still closed door, just in time to see it open at the same time as a familiar voice called her name. Kurt stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise. Rachel wanted to say something in explanation, but there was none. None that weren't the truth anyway, and that was even less of an option, but Kurt was still staring at her as if she had grown a third arm.

"Rachel, what are you doing? Why are you not dressed? And even though it does not match the scheme of the rest of the bathroom, please tell me that towel is supposed to be that colour."

There had to be some reason she could give, an explanation to cover her tracks. She was an actress for goodness sake, why did her impromptu performing skills fail her at the worst possible moment? Her concentrating wasn't helped by the throbbing pain in her arm and the exhaustion that clouded her brain. She could not even think of anything to say as Kurt hurried into the bathroom and took her hand in his, stretched her arm out and pulled away the towel.

She heard his breath catch when he saw the cuts, two of them, both clearly very deep and still oozing small beads of blood. His hand tightened around hers, and Rachel waited for him to say something, to call her out on her secret. She bit down on her lip and wished she could be anywhere but there, even being in school and tormented by Karofsky would be better than being here, with Kurt with his eyes locked on the damage she had done to herself.

"What happened?" Kurt's voice was not accusing, or horrified, as Rachel had been expecting. It was concerned, questioning. Perhaps she could still save herself.

"I caught it in the light fan," she said, without hesitation. The lie fell from her lips with ease, as if she had planned from the start what to say if anyone were to confront her about the wounds. "There was a fly on my ceiling and as I went to swat it, my dad called me and distracted me, I accidentally swung my arm into the fan." Finally, her acting skills were back. She sounded slightly concerned, not overly casual, but not in too much of a panic either.

"Why didn't you tell your dads?" Kurt said as he inspected her arm more closely. Rachel wished he wouldn't. The longer he stared, the more likely he was to see past her lies. "They should have taken you to the hospital."

"They'd gone out." The lies were becoming all too easy. "That's what they called up to me about, they went to meet up with some old friend who were in town, they warned me they might stay over the night."

Kurt said nothing for a several minutes, as if considering whether to believe her or not. He was no longer looking at her arm, but at her face. Rachel stared back at him, her expression innocent, and slightly apologetic, as if she were acknowledging she knew she had handled the situation wrongly. Finally, he let go of her arm and turned to the towel rack behind him, plucking off a fresh one to wrap around her arm. For a second, Rachel thought of snatching her arm away as the part of her that didn't want to ruin another towel kicked in, but before she could, Kurt had wrapped it firmly around her and taken her hand again.

"C'mon Princess, I'm taking you to a Doctor before school. That is if we ever get to school, you know how long these places can have you waiting."

"But we can't miss school!" Rachel argued, before she could stop herself. "I have a perfect attendance record and I don't want to throw that out for something that can easily be held off until the hours after my eduction had commenced for the day. And I'm not even dressed, I know you think I dress like an overgrown toddler at the best of times, but my fashion choices far outshine my nightwear."

"Rachel, please be quiet and get your coat. If you change now, you'll just get your clothes speckled with blood, and as much as I think it would be a gift to the fashion planet, we're far more likely to get seen quicker if you walk in looking like death with patches of blood on your pyjamas. Now come on, before we have to miss a whole day of school."

Kurt smiled at her, and Rachel found herself returning it without having to force it. He slipped an arm around her waist, helping to steady her as she shakily began to walk.

"Oh how I've missed your ramblings," said Kurt, squeezing her waist gently, and for the first time in weeks, Rachel felt as if someone just might like the person she used to be, and somewhere inside her stirred a faint flicker of hope that there was a small piece of her that just might have something better to offer.

**Just to clear something up, Finn ignored Rachel in the last chapter because he knew he couldn't go to her as he normally would. He started to, and then remembered they had broken up. Probably should have made that more clear, but never mind. **

**If you review, you get my love, and since I'm awesome (and have an ego to match Rachel's), there is no better gift ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**As is usual, there is a trigger warning on all of this. But it's not a graphic chapter, some of you will be pleased to know. **

"Rachel!"

She heard her name being called just as she prepared to leave the choir room after Glee. Momentarily, she considered just picking up her bag and leaving anyway, ignoring the voice that sounded to desperate to speak to her, but the more rational part of her knew it was something that couldn't be avoided any longer. She'd make it quick. Say what she needed to say and hear him out, then leave. There was no need for anything more than that. So why was her heart thudding inside her bone dry mouth as if she were about to leap from a plane?

The strap of her bag dug deep into the palm of her hand as Rachel clutched it close to her shoulder, a lifeline that she needed to hold onto, or else the parts of her that she was struggling to hold together might just drift away, leaving her with barely any self and nothing left to catch the floating pieces with. Rachel took a deep breath before turning to face him and waited for the mental pep talk she always used to give herself before nervous or upsetting situations, but nothing came. It was as if that confident, optimistic voice that used to reside inside of her had been silenced by something much darker.

"Finn," she managed to choke out. Her breath seemed trapped inside her throat, blocked by the huge, heavy lump that had formed there, and the mere sight of his face was enough to make her eyes sting.

"Can we talk?" He said, quickly, as if he were afraid of losing his nerve, and Rachel felt a rare surge of irritation. Why was he always such a coward? He'd never come out and say what he really felt, he'd gloss it over and cover it up, do anything to avoid the fall out. He had been the same the very first time he had broken up with her, it had taken him ages to do it, and even then he hadn't told her the truth. It was only from being able to read him so well that Rachel had got that. And the second time, he'd just shouted at her. He'd never once given her the chance to explain herself, never heard her side. Then he'd used the following weeks to hurt her without ever actually having to speak to her and face up to the situation.

"We already are talking, Finn," said Rachel, sharply. For the first time since he had broken up with her, she was feeling anger mixed with the hurt. Anger that he had never listened, never bothered to pay her any attention other than to hurt her, although it was clear to even Santana that she was way beyond hurt.

Finn turned a faint shade of pink. He was used to Quinn speaking to him like that, pointing out his mistakes, being brisk and annoyed, but not Rachel.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. Kurt told me about this morning."

"Well I can assure you Finn, the medics did a fine job of ensuring my condition did not become life threatening. I would have thought my presence here and general de-miner would be more than enough to inform you that I am perfectly well. With that in mind, I am sure my physical well being was not the true root as to why you stopped me leaving the choir room with the others, and I urge you to make your desired point with haste."

Finn blinked at her, surprised. That was something that would have been considered perfectly normal before their break up, but in the weeks after, that had turned into months, she had become quieter. Less likely to ramble as she just had. She used one word instead of five. She could have just said _get to the point, _but although she was being so sharp with him, Finn was glad she hadn't. It meant the girl he loved was still in there somewhere, hiding amongst all the hurt he had caused her.

"I wanted to talk about things. You wanted space, and I've given you that. I wanna know where I stand. Where we stand."

Rachel closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, the whole world looked brighter, sharper. It was easier to focus.

"Where you stand is right in front of me, here, now. But as you can see, we are facing each other-"

"Rach, I didn't mean lit-"

"Which is exactly the problem. We are not side by side, you do not have your arm around me, our hands are not clasped together and I am certainly not enjoying being so close to you as I once did. We're alone in this room, as we are not touching. We are not touching, because it _hurts _to touch you Finn. It hurts to even be near you, speaking to you, as we are now. Just this conversation is killing me inside.

"I love you, I forgive you, but that doesn't mean I can _forget. _Every time I try, I just hear all the things you said to me, I see you with Quinn and Santana and just how quickly you moved on, and so far you have done very little in the way of making up for it. I don't want this to be the end of us Finn, but right now I can barely even look at you without it tearing me apart, so please, just let me decide when I've had space."

After that, he didn't try to stop her as she left.

…

There was only one thing on her mind as Rachel rushed out of the school. The more she thought about it, the more eager she was to get home. She would probably be alone, as usual. Her dads did not get back from work until late, something that she had been thankful for in the past months. Not only did it mean they had not noticed the missing knives and things as it was always too late to cook anything by the time they did return home, but it meant she had a whole evening ahead of her to do what she needed to and clean up.

At first, Rachel had worried they would question the missing items, there were a lot of them after all, but the only things they had noticed the absence of so far were their razors, and it had not even once crossed their mind that Rachel would have anything to do with it. They had simply assumed they had ran out without realising at the time. It had been pointless for Puck to take those anyway, she could never use them. She couldn't explain it, but using her dads' razors would feel wrong somehow, like she were letting them in on her private world.

As eager as she was to get home, Rachel had to walk carefully across the parking lot. The past few days had brought with them flurries of thick snow, and although it had eased off while she had been in Glee, everything was soaked in a deep blanket of white and patches of ice lurked innocently underneath. If it had not been for glancing around her every few moments for signs of out of control cars hurtling towards her, Rachel would not have seen Kurt moving towards her as fast as the weather would allow.

His pace slowed when he reached her, falling into the same step as she. Silently, Rachel groaned. She loved Kurt, he was the best, and one of the only, friend(s) she had ever had, but all she wanted right then was to be alone. She wanted to walk, think and use the craft knife hidden behind the sink in the bathroom without the worry of him being right outside. If he was there, not only would it not feel so private, but she'd be rushed. She'd be concerned with taking too long and making him suspicious.

As soon as they were out of the parking lot, Kurt grabbed Rachel's arm, carefully and sure to avoid her bandage, and began to drag her in the opposite direction to where she wanted to go.

"My home is the other way," she pointed out, as if he didn't know.

"You're not going home," he replied, as if it were a given and she had no right, or reason, to argue. "We're taking advantage of the otherwise irritating weather and going ice skating. There's a frozen over lake near my house and in the last year or two, someone set up a booth and started to rent out skates. You're going to take your mind off my Neanderthal brother for an evening and engage in some ice dancing with me."

The argument had not even left Rachel's lips before she was silenced by a hush from Kurt. He moved his grip down her arm so he was holding her hand instead and practically dragged her along behind him, ignoring her excuses.

"Rachel, I know you don't have to be home. You're dads are at work until much later. I figured it out after both myself and Finn had been to your house countless times and have only seen them about three times collectively." He added the second sentence before the 'how did you know?' could even form. So much for that secret. Still, Kurt didn't seem worried. Like her dads, he must have taken up the view that she was more than capable of looking after herself.

…

Rachel stepped tentatively out onto the ice and felt it slide underneath her before she could land her second foot. Kurt, who seemed to have no more problem walking on ice with only thin blades to support him than on ordinary ground with sensible shoes, caught her before she could crash to the cold ground. She clung to him, wondering when on earth it was she had agreed to do this, and why, of all places, they had picked the one that seemed to have the entire population of Ohio for her to make a fool of herself in front of.

Kurt took her hand again, that time for holding up purposes and began to skate slowly around the ice, pulling Rachel along behind him. She squealed and clung to his arm with her other hand, and he rolled his eyes at her dramatics. Then, grinning wickedly, he sped up suddenly and Rachel screamed as she found herself hurtling forwards on the ice, Kurt's hold the only thing stopping her from plummeting to her death, the other skaters becoming nothing but blurs around them.

"How are we supposed to stop?" Rachel screamed, her voice even louder and more piercing than it normally was through her fear.

"Like this," Kurt called back, and before Rachel knew what he was doing enough to stop him, he deliberately swerved into a mound of snow to their right. He was the first to fall and pulled Rachel down beside him, both landed with a light thump in the heavy pile. As soon as she had her bearings, Rachel sat up and slapped Kurt across the arm.

"What are you doing?" She shrieked. "Do you want to get us both killed!"

He laughed and grabbed her arm as she sent another slap his way. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, but her hand still tucked in his told Kurt he was just about forgiven. That time.

"Calm down Princess, it was either that or crash into another person. Or we could have simply gone round and round the ice until it melted and sent us plunging into the water below and we could have then swum to safety. There is a correct way of stopping, but I never learned it."

Rachel huffed and got gingerly to her feet, pulling Kurt up with her as she did, but neither stepped back onto the ice. They watched the other skaters for a while, seeing some stumble and fall, just as skilled at it as Rachel was while others glided past effortlessly, like Kurt. One kid took one look at their clasped hands and called out "Get a room!" He can't have been any older than twelve and the misunderstanding made both of them crack up laughing.

Once they had started, it was very hard to stop, especially for Rachel who hadn't felt herself laughing like that since before she had broken up with Finn, and the pair began to attract a lot of attention in the form of annoyed looks Some less miserable people merely looked amused by the pair of hand holding teenagers, hysterical over something they did not know by the side of the lake. Their looks only made them laugh harder, and Rachel felt a warmth spreading inside her like one she had almost forgotten.

By the time the hysterics had subsided to gentle giggles, Rachel had lost sight of what had been so funny in the first place, and it was only then that she realised, somewhere along the line, they had sat back down in the snow again. It was extremely cold.

"Can I ask you something?" Said Kurt, suddenly looking more serious. The last trace of laughter died in Rachel's throat and her heart sank slightly at the look on his face. He looked almost afraid, as if he didn't want to know, but needed to ask anyway. She nodded, not knowing how else to respond and Kurt squeezed her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

"Did you...your arm, did you do that to yourself, Rachel?" He asked, firmly, his words blunt once he managed to get them out.

A hammer began to pound against her chest and cotton wool found its way into her mouth, soaking up all the moisture. The skaters blurred in front of her eyes even more, and without rational reason, she felt like crying. But if she cried, he would know. But would that be so bad? She could just nod, right now, and he would know the truth. He'd know her biggest secret, and she didn't think he would run. He was still there now, and had obviously suspected it since that morning. But he would _know. _It would not be private. It would not be hers.

"Of course not," Rachel shook her head, with a slight smile as if it was crazy that he could even think such a thing. "I would do nothing that could get in the way of my Broadway career, and what would casting directors think of a body full of scars?" She reasoned, realising the truth of her words only as she spoke them.

Kurt studied her for a few moments, as if trying to detect a lie and Rachel was sure he would be able to see her heart pounding underneath her coat. If anyone was going to see through her lies, it would be him. He knew her better than anyone, and aside from herself, he was the most intelligent person she knew. Then, to her relief, his face relaxed and broke out into a grin.

"Good," he said, squeezing her hand again. "Because you'd tell me if you ever thought of doing anything like that." It was not a question. Rachel's insides twisted with guilt. She plastered on her show face, mainly blank but with a hint of a smile to make her look brighter, more alert. Like someone happy should look.

Unable to look at Kurt's face anymore, Rachel gazed back out to the skaters, pretending to be transfixed by the way the blades glided across the ice, causing long, deep gashes wherever they went. The silver glistened with water that seemed to polish the blades until they were sparking. Someone skidded right past her, coming within inches of her feet and the mark they left behind cut deep into the thick, hard ice.

There were a pair of ice skates in her garage.

**Apologies to Finchel haters among you, but it was a conversation that had to be had, and personally, I ship them. That doens't mean this story will necessarily turn out Finchel, but then again, it might do. You'll have to wait :) And also, I loved the first episode :) Got up early wednesday morning to watch and OMDs Quinn is annoying! **

**Pretty please review? They make me almost as happy as a new episode of Glee (I so need a life). **


	10. Chapter 10

**Again, there should probably be a trigger warning on this. **

Rachel knew it was coming before she felt his grip on her shoulder. She had expected it since Finn had cornered her after Glee and asked if she was okay, because if Finn had heard, Puck would have heard too and unlike the others, he would have guessed exactly what happened. Not that Rachel had ever actually admitted it to him, but he knew. She was just glad he hadn't seen her scars, and he'd never actually caught her in the act, because that way she could pretend to herself that it was still entirely hers.

But when Puck grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him before she could leave the English classroom, she knew that illusion was about to be shattered. He was glaring at her even more angrily than he had done when he had heard her sing. She felt his fingers dig even deeper into her shoulder blade, holding her back until the last person had left the classroom, shooting an 'oi oi' in the direction of Puck and Rachel. That was, until they were silenced by a dark look from Puck.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, as soon as the classroom was empty.

"I could ask you the same question," Rachel shot back, wrenching herself free. She took a step backwards, away from him, but didn't make a run for the door like he had been expecting her to.

"I want to know why someone who's meant to be on for straight As can be so stupid!"

Rachel had been expecting his anger, and she was ready for it. It had taken a lot of thought to decide how to react when he did confront her, as she knew he would, Noah was not like Finn. If he had something to say, he would say it. There was no beating around the bush for him, and a part of Rachel was grateful for it. At least that meant she could get the conversation over and done with and react with some anger of her own. It was so much easier to be defensive with someone who was mad at you than someone who could barely get their own words out.

"I don't know what you're talking about Noah," she said, innocently, but with an edge to her voice that warned him not to push it. Not that it made any difference. Noah had never been afraid of her like Finn was, if it was him confronting her, he would already be thinking about backing down from the brewing argument.

"Bullshit. Kurt told me about your 'accident'. Now you've landed yourself in hospital, what's the next part? You gonna kill yourself?" Rachel flinched, she wanted to run from his words, be anywhere other than there. Even Finn's company would be preferable, but she could not find it in herself to run. Her feet wouldn't take her, and he'd probably catch her anyway.

"I can firmly assure you, Noah, that suicide is not on my agenda. Now as soon as you're done flinging misguided stereotypes at me, I have a lesson to attend." She did try and walk away then, but Puck's hand shot out and grabbed her once again before she could take anymore than one step towards the door.

"No way Berry, we're doing this. I might have taken my anger out on nerds and losers in the past, but the worst I ever did was toss them in the dumpster. I'd never hurt anyone like you're hurting yourself." Without warning, Rachel's anger and defence evaporated and she felt near tears. Moisture welled up inside her eyes, and she blinked to get rid of it. She had already cried in front of Noah once that week.

Rachel knew, deep down somewhere inside of her, that what she was doing was wrong. Not only did it scar her body and could possibly affect her future on Broadway, but it was letting them know they had won. Everyone who was the cause of the cuts that covered her skin had beat her when she did it, no matter how much she fought to keep it a secret. Although her words often came out in the wrong way, Rachel always did her best not to hurt anyone else, and that kindness should extend to herself. She knew that.

But she also knew how good it felt. She knew about the feeling of release as soon as she had made a mark, she knew how it allowed all the pain she kept bottled up to escape in a way that was harming no one else, she knew how calm she felt with the blade in her hand, she knew the power it gave her afterwards, to hide her secret and know within herself that none of them could hurt her as much as she could hurt herself.

"I'm sorry Noah, but I really don't know what you're referring to. My trip to the Doctor this morning was nothing more than an accident." Even as the lie killed her to tell, even as she could see Puck's eyes flash with frustration and even as she could see him looking right through the lie as if the truth were stamped across her forehead, she still told it. If she denied all charges, he couldn't prove anything.

Puck's fist clenched at his side and the hand that was still around her wrist gripped her tighter, pulling her towards him as he glared furiously into her eyes. For just a flash of a second of madness, Rachel thought he was going to hit her. But then his features relaxed, his hold loosened and when he spoke, he was calmer. His voice still held the frustration. He still sounded as if he wanted to throttle her, or at least knock the truth out of her, but he wasn't so furious.

"Look Berry, we both know you're lying, but you're as stubborn as Lauren on a good day, so I'm just gonna tell you to call me, okay? When you want to do that, just call me and I'll come hang out. We don't even have to talk about it, you know I'm rubbish with all the girl talk about feelings and stuff, but I still will, if you want. Anyway, just do it, I'll keep you company, take your mind off it." For once, Puck didn't even give a wink that would turn it into a sexual innuendo.

Rachel said nothing. If she thanked him, or even nodded, she would be admitting that he was right, and she wasn't ready for that, not yet. He seemed to understand anyway and before she could push him away, he pulled on her wrist and tugged her closer to hug her. For a second, Rachel froze in his grip, but then she reminded herself that it was only Noah, the boy she had known since she was five years old, and it was only a hug. She relaxed into it and even found herself wrapping her arms around him in return, burying her face in his chest and taking comfort in being held.

Neither of them noticed Finn standing at the door, watching them until his angry voice rung through the classroom. "So you're with him now?" He half yelled, and the two of them sprung apart as if they had been caught making out by their parents. More from the shock than anything else, Rachel backed away from Puck and swung her head to look at Finn. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her own fury grew to match his.

"Is this why you blew me off yesterday? Because you're screwing him? I know I'm not your boyfriend any more Rachel, but you could have had the decency to tell me!" In three quick strides, Rachel crossed the classroom until she was just inches from Finn, she could not remember a time when she felt so angry. He had done worse than this by far, but then she had just been hurt. Now, she was furious. Really, really furious.

"No Finn, we are not dating. As it has obviously escaped your notice, I shall take this time to point out to you that Noah is in a relationship. My reasons for not running back to you as soon as it got into your brain that I was telling the truth all along have nothing to do with him, we aren't back together because, as I informed you yesterday, I can't even stand to be around you. Now I know how you really see me, what you think of all the whispers in the halls, I don't even want to think about having a relationship with you.

"I need someone who can actually look past all that and not give a crap what everyone else thinks. I need someone who's going to believe me over the local prostitute and not assume something as innocent as a hug goes as far as a relationship! I need someone who will not shout and storm at me when he is the one who messed it all up to begin with! And most of all I need someone who sees what you were so blind to for months that we were going out!"

Rachel shouted so loudly that several people milling around in the hall outside turned to stare, even through the closed door. She didn't wait to hear what Finn had to say back to her, she didn't even wait for Puck to start chewing him out too, she just wrenched open the classroom door and stormed out of it, physically shaking with the intensity of her anger. She ploughed into several people as she rushed through the corridor, not even stopping to apologise or turn back as some of them called angrily after her.

She did not stop storming until she was half way home and her mind was finally clear enough from the fog of fury that had consumed it for her to think clearly. She had never lost it like that before. Not with Santana, not with Quinn, not with her dads or Shelby. But it was not just Finn, it was all of them. It was all of the anger that went towards every cut she made on her own skin, it was all the emotions she could only release in that way. Finn had just been there, he had just delivered the faint blow needed to the delicate house of cards that she had become.

It was only when she finally did stop to catch her breath that Rachel realised in her haste to get out, she had not even brought her coat with her. And she still had Spanish to go to. She had been so angry with Finn when she left, that she hadn't thought of any of that. Perhaps she should go back. Spanish only began ten minutes ago, if she hurried, she'd only be about fifteen minutes late. It was only Mr Schue, she could spin him a story about going to the nurse for pain relief. Finn would be there. But she had Glee afterwards, which she never missed, even when it had started to become a chore, and someone was bound to realise something wrong if she didn't turn up. Especially Kurt.

With an irritated sigh, Rachel turned on her heel and began to trudge through the snow back to school, not bothering to hurry. She was already late, a few more minutes wouldn't make a difference. Mr Schue wouldn't question her too much if she told him the painkillers were for women's issues. That was the one advantage to having that monthly curse, male teachers always accepted it as an excuse for lateness, or a reason so suddenly leave their classroom.

As she pushed the door open to the Spanish classroom, Rachel felt as if all eyes were on her, and not in a good way. She very carefully avoided Finn's eyes as she mumbled to Mr Schue her made up reason for being late and sat down. She could feel his gaze on her, so intense she half expected it to physically burn, but she could not tell if it was apologetic, or angry. Her question was soon answered when she felt a something hit the back of her head and turned around to see a screwed up ball of paper fall to the floor. With a quick glance to the front of the classroom to check Mr Shue wasn't watching, Rachel bent down and scooped up the note, taking care not to tear it as she unscrewed it.

_Im sorry, _was all it said. Rachel did not have to look around to know who sent it. She'd know that handwriting amongst millions, and no one else liked her enough to apologise, whatever they had done. With another quick check at her teacher, Rachel picked up a pencil and drew in the missing apostrophe before screwing the note back up and flinging it in Finn's direction, being sure to aim right between his eyes.

**Sorry guys, don't hate me too much, but I felt all that needed to be said. As much as I love Finchel, they can't try and fix their relationship until all the anger and feelings are out in the open. And I suppose I should credit Katy Perry or whoever it was that wrote that song for the card metaphor, but apart from that, and the fact that none of the characters or the TV show are mine, the work's all me. I think that is the first disclaimer I have ever written, and I have A LOT of fan fiction. **

**Also, in good news, I have a plan and know just where I am going with this now :) I really love getting all of your reviews, it's a much happier thing to wake up to in the morning than someone thumping on my door and shouting at me to get the f- out of bed. **


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter will be triggering. Like every chapter has been so far.**

There were just so many knives. Some small, some big, some much sharper than others. Carving knives, ordinary kitchen knives, craft knives and even a cleaver. They were all different colours too. The handles were black, white, purple, red and even yellow. There were razor blades too, and even eyebrow shavers which Rachel hadn't even known existed up until then. Each item seemed to be begging to be bought, and they all looked so appealing. It was as if someone had taken everything sharp they could find and bunched it together in one backstreet shop. And she wanted them. She wanted all of them. A perfect collection of blades.

It was not the place Rachel would usually chose to shop, but she knew they wouldn't ask for ID, and her dads had already noticed their razors and the nail scissors were missing, as well as the blade from the blender. If she didn't replace everything else soon, they were going to start to ask some serious questions. Of course she was never going to get the exact ones they had before, but she'd just have to hope they wouldn't notice that, or at least decide they were just imagining things. It wasn't as if they cooked often. Rachel was the only one who ever used the knives.

It was not as if she hadn't been trying. She had thought of what Puck had said, and she'd taken to doing something else whenever the urge overcame her. She'd write the words on her skin in red pen instead, or practise her singing, plan something for Glee Club, or even go downstairs and chat about mundane things with her dads if they were in. The problem was they rarely were, and now the blade from her ice skates was hidden under her mattress. There had even been times when she'd considered taking Puck up on his offer and phoning him, but she'd never quite been able to bring herself to push the button.

Resisting had been hard, but standing there in front of all the sharp, gleaming blades was impossible. She wanted them more than she had ever wanted any material thing, and would happily have exchanged all the money in her savings for the collection. It was not so much a plan to use them, but to _have _them. To know they were there, just in case, a whole assortment. She could chose which one she wanted to use, and they would be completely hers. Buying her own blades would give her that extra bit of power.

Rachel selected the knives and replacement scissors carefully, trying her best to remember what the previous had looked like and match the news ones as accurately as possible. The knives were easy enough to find, plain black handles, but it was the scissors she had trouble with. Their old ones had been large with red finger holes, and although the shop had a whole variety of knife colours, they only seemed to sell black and plain silver scissors. In the end, Rachel opted for the black, which at least had a plastic cover over the finger holes, and just hoped her dads wouldn't notice.

It was the second part of her selection that took the longest. She knew she could not leave the shop without buying something for herself, the desire was too strong, but she'd have to be careful. Chose just a couple of things. Not only would it look suspicious taking so many blades to the counter, but she barely had enough money to cover her lunch for the next day, and that was without the extra purchase, but it was worth going without food.

She had a craft knife, so that wasn't an option. Then there was scissors, but they were always awkward to use, and ordinary knives were too big, she wanted something she could carry in her pocket without provoking questions if it were ever found. Not that there was anything that was going to allow her to get away with that, carrying around any sort of blade that did not belong, and was attached, to a sharpener was frowned upon. Except for perhaps, the eyebrow shaver. It was a small but seemingly sharp blade on a white plastic handle. It was long too, designed to be able to hold with whilst trying to get to your eyebrow. They came in packs too, she could by three for just two dollars.

Rachel chewed her lip as she stared at the packet, longing to pick it up and add it to her basket, but she couldn't stop herself thinking of Noah's hug, his promise and the concern he had shown in his own angry, bad ass way. But she didn't have to use it, she just wanted to have it. Noah would never have to know. He wasn't going to take to searching her house on a regular basis and it was a perfectly innocent item. It could just be used for eyebrow shaving. Rachel pushed her guilt aside as she took the packet from the shelf and dropped it amongst the rest of her shopping. She didn't have to use it. It was fine. She just wanted it there. To add to her collection.

…

Mr Schue's voice was buzzing in the background. He was talking about Regionals, and how important it was becoming to compose a set list. Rachel resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. The part of her that could be bothered to care had been telling him for weeks that they should be constructing one, and now two weeks before Regionals, he wanted to begin focusing on it. She heard him ask for suggestions, but she didn't bother to put up her hand, although her mind had been overflowing with them for weeks. No one ever listened to her.

It took her a while to realise all eyes were on her, waiting for her to say something. So now they wanted to know. They didn't care when she needed them, they didn't care when she was standing in the middle of the room and screaming. They didn't even look up. But they cared now, when it was _them _who needed _her _help. If that was what it could really be called. Whatever she suggested they would just shoot it down until a few days later when someone else suggested the exact same thing and everyone praised them for a fantastic idea. No one would remember that Rachel suggested it first.

"I think we should do original songs for Regionals," she said, before she could stop herself. She couldn't help it. She had an idea and they were looking to her. It had become almost a natural instinct to respond. Of course, as soon as she had spoken, someone just had to bring her down again. As if giving her just that one tiny bit of something positive was too much like hard work.

"And who's going to write them? None of us know anything about writing a song. I suppose you thought you could and keep your precious spotlight again so none of the rest of us had a chance to even open our mouths. No one wants to keep hearing your voice hobbit, you aren't even that good." Santana had started with her taunts again shortly after confessing to her lie. Rachel had hoped that maybe after seeing what she could really be, some of the others may start standing up for her more, but all she heard were titters and murmurs of agreement.

"Besides, you aren't pretty enough for the spotlight," Quinn chipped in with a smirk, tossing her perfect golden hair as she spoke. Rachel turned her head down to her lap and closed her eyes. She wished she hadn't spoken. She wished she hadn't even come. She wished she had her blade. She wished, that just for once, their teacher would say something.

"Stop it guys," she heard Finn say, awkwardly. She wanted to appreciate the gesture, but it was just too little too late. If he had defended her from the beginning, she might have found the strength to keep their words at bay. Knowing she had someone on her side could have stopped the crushing rejections and feeling of utter worthlessness that came with it. "Let her talk."

"It's okay Finn," Rachel heard herself say. "It's more than clear that no one holds any interest in what I have to say, but their criticisms are rich. Coming from the girl whose beauty comes from implants and artificial products and another who got herself pregnant and kicked out of her own home at the tender age of sixteen." Quinn leapt up immediately and Santana opened her mouth furiously, but before either of them could lay into her, Mr Schue finally spoke.

"Rachel, that's enough," he said, sharply. The injustice of it all stung so badly, that Rachel could not even respond to defend herself. She always knew her teacher saw her in less of a light than he did the others, just like they believed, he thought she needed taking down from her pedestal, but even he couldn't fail to see that she was not the only perpetrator. The one time she had snapped and spat back, all the blame was on her. Why did he not care that Santana had said she had no talent, or Quinn had said she was too ugly for the stage? Did her feelings not matter, or was it just too true to be argued with?

She stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the ground as she did. Rachel could almost hear everyone's eyes roll. She was just man hands having another dramatic storm out. Nothing to worry about, and certainly nothing to care about. Perhaps they might care when she didn't come back. Maybe they'd even seek her out and ask that she did come to future meetings, but they wouldn't need her, they'd need her voice. And she just couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't be 'the voice'.

But of course, she always would be. What else did she have to offer? Beside that, she was just irritating, and spoiled and ugly. She was all the words that were carved into her skin, she was every cut she ever made, every insult ever shot at her, every filthy look that ever came her way, every rejection that crushed her. She was no longer the shining star, destined to be the brightest in the sky. That star had died, and now she was nothing but a black hole. And trying was just too darn hard.

"I'm done," she admitted, her voice lined with all the defeat she felt curling up inside her and taking everything else with it, killing all life that remained. She didn't look at any of their faces, not even Kurt's, and especially not Puck's. If she caught his eye, they would both know what was going through her mind.

Rachel did not storm loudly and dramatically from the room as she always did. She walked, her head down so her hair fell across her face, hiding her expression from view. She kept the strap of her bag clutched tightly to her chest, wishing it were enough to hold her together and carefully controlled the tear that ran down each cheek. Enough now.

Enough.

**On a lighter note, I got my wand. 12.75 inches, Laurel, dragon heartstring, slightly springy and I'm in Ravenclaw. (For any of you who think I've cracked, I'm talking about Pottermore, the website.) I was one of the lucky folk to get in early and it is the most exciting thing I have ever done in my life. I have shopped in Diagon Alley, ridden on the Hogwarts express and been sorted. I can also duel, and make potions and earn house points. My life has never been this amazing. **

**Also, (don't read if you haven't seen 'I Am Unicorn) what happened between Rachel and Shelby in Glee? I was so confused. One moment Rachel was yelling at her, then they were singing together. Did Rachel actually ask her to join or was it a fantasy? Because when she turned around at the end of the song, Shelby wasn't there and I thought that might be significant. **

**If you want to make it even more amazing, you could leave a review, because you're amazing.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yet another trigger warning. And I have to pee, but you didn't need to know that. **

**I know people want other to find out, which isn't occurring just yet, but I do have a plan, so trust me :)**

Rachel's hand shook as she held the silver against her wrist. She started gently, stroking the cold blade smoothly across her skin then pushed harder, so it stung and left a faint red line, but did not break the skin. _Just do it, _she told herself. _Press it down and run it along. _It sounded so easy in her head. So quick. But then there would be the other one, and by then she would hurt, that one would not be so simple. Her wrist would be weak, painful, she might not be able to go deeply enough and then she'd just be left to bleed without an end.

Was an end really what she wanted? She had meant what she said, she was done with trying to please the people who would clearly never love or accept her. She was done trying to defend herself when it only ever landed her in worse trouble. She was done trying to be what everyone else wanted her to be. She was done trying to smile. But she wasn't done with life, not quite. Although more people would brush her death away than care, there were the select few that would be hurt. Kurt for one, and Noah. Her dads.

But then there was the end to the pain. The end to the daily taunts and put downs, the end to the roll of dread that washed through her every day when she woke up in the morning at the thought of having to face more hours awake and alive, an end to the crushing loneliness that threatened to engulf her with each passing day. She didn't want to die, but she was tired of living. If her existence could even be called that. It was too hard. It was all just too hard.

The blade hit the carpet with a gentle thump as Rachel allowed it to fall from her quivering hand. As hard as living was, dying would surely be worse. She would lie alone as the blood flowed out of her, taking her life further away with every drop that spilt, and then there would be the anguish for the one to discover her. Who would that be? Her dads perhaps, or maybe Noah, or Kurt, seeing the way she had fled from glee would peruse her, and they would be the ones to find her.

Rachel waited for the tears to come. She could feel the sob bubbling in her throat and the moisture stinging behind her eyes, but nothing happened. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a noise, somewhere between a cry and groan, but still the tears didn't spill. The one time she actually wanted to, she could not cry. She wanted to curl on her bed and sob until there was nothing left in her body to sob with, she wanted to hear the sound echo through the empty walls of the house, a proof that she was hurting.

But there was another way to prove it, and it lay still at her feet. Rachel reached for it, calmer now she had no intention of going so deep. Her hand was still as it clasped the blade, slid from its home on her ice skate. It was the sharpest one she had, and she had selected it with the thought in mind of no going back from the cut she had been about to make. Now she considered that it may be too sharp to work with, but she no longer cared. That time, she would conceal what she had done better, even in the case of visitors. She would not be able to lie a second time around.

Just as she pressed the tip of the skate to her skin, her phone buzzed to life, startling her so the edge pierced her skin. Rachel let out a hiss of pain, having not expected it and turned her gaze in the direction of her screen. _Finn. _She didn't want to answer it. He was the last person she wanted to talk to right now, especially as she was so close to freedom, but if she didn't pick up, there was always the chance he would come over. If he came over, he would see her.

With a frustrated sigh, Rachel put down the blade and pressed 'answer' before holding the phone tightly against her ear, tense with nerves. It was the first time she had spoken to him since she had shouted at him.

"Hello," she said, so quietly she was sure he mustn't of heard her, but his reply came quickly, sounding as relieved as if she had been missing for weeks.

"Rachel!" But once he had got her name out, he didn't seem to know what else to say. A quick silence fell across the line, and Rachel was tempted to simply hang up. He knew she was at least okay enough to answer a phone, so perhaps he would leave her alone. Somehow she doubted it. "Why'd you walk out like that?" He managed, eventually. Now she was really tempted to hang up.

"Because I'm tired of being around people who so clearly don't want to be around _me," _she admitted.

"I want to be around you." Rachel closed her eyes, glad he wasn't there to see her face. She wished she could tell him she felt the same. She wished she could ask him over and have him hold her as he used to. She wished she could disappear into one of his hugs and forget everything that plagued her. But it was him who did that now. It was the years of taunting and loneliness that had made her delicate, but it was him who had broken her.

"Can I come over? I just wanna talk to you." _No, _thought Rachel, _we've done our talking. You didn't give me that luxury before chewing me out and tossing me aside. _She didn't want to talk to him, especially not see him, but she still felt an ache in her heart whenever she looked at him, being near him hurt more than any of Santana or Quinn's comments, or slushies from the rest of the school. Love hurt far more than hate ever could.

Before she could stop herself, the 'okay' had left her mouth, which she instantly regretted. Why had she said that? She couldn't see him, not yet. She was barely even ready to be in the same room as him in a lesson, let alone just him and her, in her bedroom, just as they used to be. Only it would be nothing like it used to be. She wasn't going to lay in his embrace and ramble about her day and Broadway and their future. They would sit apart, not touching, barely even speaking.

But he had already hung up, sounding as if someone had just promised him a visit to Santa. He'd be there within ten minutes. Which meant she couldn't even cut. In the next second, there was a knock at the door, and Rachel blinked in surprise. That couldn't be Finn already, barely thirty seconds had passed since she had put down the phone. Or perhaps it had been longer than that. Time didn't seem to mean anything anymore.

Before she even opened the door though, she knew it was him. No one else could cast such a tall shadow in the patterned glass. Rachel opened the door before she could back out and leave him standing there, and as soon as she did, he bent down and pulled her into a hug. Without thinking about it, Rachel buried her head in his chest and returned the hug, momentarily forgetting what had passed between them as she remembered how good it felt to be held by Finn. He was so big compared to her, that his arms could almost engulf her. They were so strong, so safe.

Finn tensed in surprise when Rachel's arms came around his neck, and even though he was bending, she still had to stretch to reach him. That was part of what had attracted her to him. He was so much bigger than her, that even though he never bothered to defend her, she felt he could always _protect _her. He'd never let her get really hurt. Only he had let her get hurt, and he'd been the one to do it. Suddenly, the embrace felt cold, and Finn's arms turned crushing rather than comforting, his size was a threat, not a protection. Rachel pulled out of it, crossing her arms over her stomach as she did so. _That _was the only thing that could protect her now.

The mood was suddenly awkward as Rachel stammered out an invitation inside, even though he was already standing in the hall. They trudged slowly into the lounge, wanting the journey to take as long as possible so they didn't have to face what happened once they got there. Rachel's hesitance had made everything seem strange, as if they were miles apart rather than standing in the same room. Rachel was used to the feeling. Even with Kurt and Noah, she felt as if she were in a different world when she spoke to them. A world they could never enter or understand.

"How are you?" Finn asked, hesitantly once they had sat down. Rachel stared at him for a moment, chewing her lip. She had no idea how to answer that question.

_Trapped. I'm trapped. The world keeps moving, school still exists, the people I have known all my life, and those I have recently encountered are still there. They move around me every day, I see them, talk to them even. Cars roll past as if nothing is different, birds still sing in the trees at the same time every morning. I have to go to lessons, attend Glee and plaster on a smile. Everything around me is alive, moving, real. But I am trapped. I'm stuck still, here, in this dark I don't know._

_But I'm getting to know it. Every day it becomes more and more familiar to me. So familiar that I almost don't want it to go away, because I am starting to forget what lays outside of it, and although it's terrifying here, and it hurts here and it's dark here, I know it. I know what will happen every day. I know I will wake up here, and when I am here, I don't have to be afraid of it. If I escape I will be waiting for the moment someone comes and banishes me back to it. I don't know what lies in the light, and I am too scared to find out. So I just want to stay here, in this dark I know well._

"I'm okay," she smiled slightly to prove her point, but it wasn't the sparking Rachel Berry smile Finn was used to. It didn't make the stars shine in her eyes. He hadn't seen those stars in so long.

"It's just you've been...different lately."

_I _feel _different Finn. I feel like I'm living two lives, the one I lead on the outside, the one where I go to class, I turn in my work, I do my best to maintain my grades. I make sure I'm up in plenty of time in the morning, I arrange to see Kurt at the weekend, or after school that day, I turn up and I laugh with him. I smile and it's real. In that life, I am the happy person I always was. I will even come home and watch a musical with a vegan snack. When my dads eventually return home from work, I come down here and talk to them. We discuss our days. _

_But then I lead another life. Another me. The one you are describing now. That me doesn't shine. In that life, I don't smile. I come home, I take out my blade and draw it across my skin to heal the pain on the inside. I cry, all alone in my bedroom and watch my tears drip onto my pillow because there is no one around to wipe them away, and it is so lonely. I see Kurt, I speak to him, but I don't feel like I'm there. I feel like I'm trapped in the other life, hidden in the dark, and he can't reach me there. Both lives are mine, yet it feel like neither are. _

"I've been focusing on other things," Rachel didn't expand, and she hoped Finn wouldn't ask.

"What things?"

Dammit.

_The sadness. The pain wrapped around my heart. It's coiled and twisted around my heart, like __barbed wire and it cuts into me, making my heart bleed and hurt. It's there all the time, and I just want to reach inside myself and pull it out, but I'm scared that if I do, I will bleed to death. It is always there, and it causes me such agony. Sometimes, I can forget it, other times, I can feel it constantly and I need to keep my focus to make sure it does not show. At the same time as the pain's there, I feel so empty, like there is nothing left inside of me, and yet it still hurts. _

_I want to cry all the time Finn, for no reason I can pin point. If I am not tearful, I am angry. Angry at the whole darn world for doing this to me, I am angry for everything and nothing at all. Sometimes, this pain shows itself in the way of anxiety. I can be sitting in my bedroom, perfectly safe, yet I am afraid. I'm afraid of what is to come in the next thirty seconds, thirty hours, thirty days. I will think ahead to tomorrow and be suddenly nervous at the thought of attending a mundane class. There is nothing to be afraid of, or angry about, there is nothing to grieve me, but I feel it all the same. The fury, the fear, the sadness. _

"My dads aren't around an awful lot, and since you and I...I've just been prone to a little loneliness." Finn shifted awkwardly in his seat. Did that mean she missed him? She was lonely since they broke up, that had to mean something, right? If she no longer felt anything for him, she'd have just found someone else. She'd ask Kurt or someone over in the evenings to keep her company. But she didn't. Did that mean she knew it he would be back sometime?

"You have Kurt," Finn pointed out. He may not want someone to take his place in Rachel's evenings, but he didn't want her to be lonely either, and at least there was no chance of Kurt taking his place in Rachel's heart.

_Yes, I have Kurt, but at the same time, I don't have Kurt. I want so badly to tell him about the place I am trapped in, the barbed wire, the emptiness, but I can't. Not ever. I feel so guilty that I have to lie to him each day, I do not want to drag him down with me, if I am to plunge downwards into nothing, his hand will not be in mine as I do so. So I will not reach out to him. _

_And then there is you. You who taught me that no matter how much you trust someone, they will always let you fall. _

"I'm sure your step brother has other things to do than be here every evening. His daily skin care routine wouldn't stand for it." Finn smiled at the joke, relieved that she could still make them. She was not completely lost to him yet.

"He's worried about you too you know. He keeps trying to cheer you up, and he says sometimes you come with him, and it's like you really are there. The old you. And other times, you come but you're not really there at all. I didn't understand that. I mean, surely if you're there you're there, right? But I'm getting it now. You're sitting right next to me Rach, but you aren't here."

_That's because I'm in the darkness Finn. Trapped. _

"Well I was working on my English assignment when you showed up, and I am mentally brainstorming ideas while we talk." It was a lie. Even Finn could see it was a lie. Kurt was in her class, and they didn't even _have _an English assignment. Rachel was smiling at him, weakly, but even that did not reach her eyes. Her eyes that had become so dark and etched with her pain. They were sad eyes. Eyes that looked older than the rest of her body. Scarred eyes. Scared eyes.

"Rachel..." Finn reached for her, taking a desperate plunge to make her eyes shine again, but she shrank back from him, as if in his hand he held a gun. "C'mon Rach, talk to me. You always used to tell me everything." Her sad, scarred eyes flashed suddenly. With anger.

"Yes well that was _then, _wasn't in Finn?" She snapped, and sprung from the couch. At first, Finn thought she was going to wrench open the front door and demand that he leave. He'd screwed it up. Again. But Finn followed her right through the hall and into the kitchen, where she began bustling around in cupboards, pulling two glasses from one of them. Then she went to the fridge, taking out the orange juice and pouring two glasses. She gave one to Finn, who took it, bewildered.

"I just realised I never offered you a drink," she explained. "And I know it's your favourite. It's what you always wanted when you would come here." Finn didn't tell her that he hadn't actually drunk the stuff since their breakup. She was right, it was what he always had when he was at her house, he liked the kind she had, and he hadn't been able to stand drinking it since. It reminded him too badly of what hurt too much to think about.

"Will you just stop?" Finn snapped as Rachel turned back to the kitchen counter to get her own juice. The tone of his voice startled her, and her hand knocked into the glass, pouring the contents over the counter, where most of rolled off and onto the floor. Then Rachel did something neither she or Finn expected. She burst into tears. The juice pooled around her bare feet, collecting underneath them and she didn't move. She just stood there and sobbed, her face in her hands.

"The floor's going to be all sticky," she cried. "Even if I clean it, my dads will walk in and they'll feel it. They'll shout at me." She was crying as if she were five years old and afraid of being scalded, and Finn may have engaged in some light teasing if he had not wanted to comfort her so badly. Because it was not just about the juice.

Finn stepped through the puddle towards Rachel, sure she would push him away, but he had to try anyway. He couldn't just leave her crying, he'd made that mistake too many times before. Just as he predicted, Rachel flinched as soon as he touched her, and although it caused a sting of rejection, he knew he had to make her see he just wanted to help her.

"Rach, please, it's just me," he almost begged her, reaching for her again. That time, she did not pull away as he rested his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't lean into him either. She turned to face him, her glare angry.

"It's not just you though, you were you before all of this and now we aren't that way. You aren't that way and I just want you to leave me alone!" Rachel's voice rose at the end of her sentence, but Finn ignored her tone and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. She was so small, that he could have covered one entire side of her face, but he twisted is hand so his palm and thumb were on her cheek and his fingers rested on her neck.

"Just forget all of that for a little while. I know I don't deserve it Rach, but you do, so just ignore it okay? Just see _me." _Rachel stared at him for several seconds, neither moving or speaking, or even seeming to blink. In those seconds, Finn's heart pounded inside his mouth, he was sure that at any moment she was going to wrench herself free and throw him out of her house.

Rachel wasn't sure what she wanted to do herself. His touch was throwing her off guard. She was upset and her tears were mingling with his touch. Always a lethal combination. Then she tried to do what he was asking. She closed her eyes momentarily and pushed out all thoughts of everything he had said, his accusations and all else that had passed between them. She imagined it was before they had gone to the beach, because this had started long before Finn had broken up with her. She imagined it all away and just saw _him. _Finn. The hopeless, awkward, immature boy she had fallen in love with. And had never stopped loving.

Barely with a conscious decision, Rachel leaned forwards, sinking into him as his arms reached out, ready to catch her and pull her into his engulfing, safe and comforting embrace, and that time, she did not think of how it was too late. She did not think of what else his arms and the heart she could feel beating against her temple were capable of. She allowed herself to be lost in his hold, both physically and emotionally, in the way she always had.

**A moment of Finchel peace there that I felt was well needed. I have no intentions of getting them back together yet, or perhaps not at all. I am still on the fence with that one. I have a mixed response for it, and then there is of course my own opinion. I do love Finchel though, so I will not end this story with their relationship filled with nothing but angst and woe. Do not fear. **

**I Am Unicorn: I know that Rachel went from practice to singing in her audition, but what confused me was the sudden attitude change. She went from 'go away' to 'come sing with me!' and I think their relationship needs more repairing than that. **

**And I would love a review, because I'm awesome and you're awesome and we can all be awesome together on my review page. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Trigger warning. **

For the next few days, nothing exceptionally out of the ordinary happened. Noah and Kurt had both called while she had been with Finn to check she was okay. They wanted to come over too, especially Noah when she told him Finn was there, but Rachel had assured him it was fine and they were just talking. Even then he had insisted that she phone him if 'that douche' did anything to upset her, and although his persistence was a little annoying, Rachel was touched by the gesture.

Finn had stayed the entire night. By the time she had calmed down, it was gone eleven and after a quick phone call to him mom to apologise and explain, with Rachel's permission, he had said he was staying the night- but not to worry, they were going to sleep in separate rooms and do nothing more than hug. Despite having regretted agreeing for him to come over, Rachel found once he was there, she wanted him to stay. With Finn there, she didn't feel so empty, the barbed wire didn't dig as deep and although the urge was still there, it was impossible to follow through with it.

His company had not been as painful as she had expected. For that one night, she had taken his advice and forced herself to forget everything that had passed between them, not enough to go back to what they were, but enough so she could allow him to comfort her without flinching, as if afraid he would hit her. Once her tears had subsided, Finn had carried her into the lounge so not to spread juice all through the house and cleaned her feet before wiping up the mess on the kitchen floor and sitting with her on the couch.

All night, he had not forced her to talk about anything. He'd put on _Funny Girl, _knowing it was her favourite and had the most hope of cheering her up. By mid movie, Rachel found it was almost working. She was able to sing along faintly to _Don't Rain On My Parade, _something that she had not done in weeks. And she had wanted so much to tell Finn everything. He had been right there and being so kind, but not at all pressuring, and it made her want to spill her soul to him. All that had stopped her was knowing she would regret it when she woke up in the morning and the mood was gone. She had told herself if she still wanted to tell him in one week, she could.

It had been four days, and still she longed to tell not just Finn, but Kurt and Noah as well, who she owed explanations. But she just wasn't ready for them to know. All the time she kept her secrets, she could tell them at any point, but once they were told there was no going back. She didn't know what had happened to her. There was a time when the entire world would have known everything that was wrong with her, but people had always assumed their comments rolled off her back, and she'd never bothered to contradict them.

It was too late now. It had all gone on too long, and whatever she said wasn't going to make a difference. What did they care what they made her do? If they knew what she was doing to herself, they'd just get worse. They'd be _so pleased _with themselves that they'd managed to get to her so much. She'd be even more of a freak than she was before.

…

On Sunday, Rachel didn't get dressed until almost four in the afternoon, something she had never done before. She always showered and dressed as soon as she had finished her morning workout so she could be ready if any impromptu invitations came her way, but Kurt was the only one who wanted to do anything with her, and he'd complain however she turned up looking. Somewhere along the line, it had just become too much effort to try. If she didn't put a lot into her appearance then she had an excuse to look horrible.

She would not have dressed at all had it not been for wanting a mug of hot chocolate and being out of soya milk. It was hard enough to find vegan hot chocolate, and only one shop in Lima did soya milk. It was a half hour walk, and had it just been for the drink, Rachel would not have bothered, but she'd need it for her morning protein shake. Reluctantly, she threw on the first thing that she touched from her wardrobe and ran a comb through her hair, leaving it as it was.

To her relief, the shop was almost empty, which meant no queues and less chance of bumping into someone she knew and having to make small talk. It also meant the beady eye of the shop assistant eyed her up as she scanned the shelves. It was like being young and a resident of Lima automatically made her a thief. She grabbed a carton of milk quickly, not bothering to check each one for the use by date as she normally would.

Rachel turned away from the shelf towards the till, and walked straight into the person behind her. "Sorry-" she muttered, without looking at them, until a very familiar voice spoke her name. She froze in walking away, praying she was wrong. He was the last person she wanted to see when she was dressed down and in a foul mood. He was the last person she _ever _wanted to see, and had thought she never would have to again.

A part of her wanted to just bolt, but that would be rude, and if there was one thing her dads had taught her it was to always try and be polite, even if her advice did not always come out in the most mannerly way. With even more reluctance than she had come to the shop with, Rachel slowly turned to face him, being sure to do just the opposite off everything she wanted to do. Look him in the eye instead of at the floor, keep straight rather than slouch and speak calmly, rationally, as if he had not crossed her mind since she had last seen him.

"Hello Jesse," she said, coolly, staring him out. He stood casually with his hands pushed into his pockets, a slight smirk dancing over his lips as of he was part of a private joke. Rachel felt a surge of annoyance at the pose she used to find alluring. Now it was just a sign of how he had been able to manipulate her, and all the lies he had told. "I thought you were in UCLA."

"I dropped out," he said, as if that explained everything. Rachel resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

"And why would you do that? It's what you've always wanted."

"Itwas what I wanted," he corrected her. "But then I got there and it wasn't all that. They kept telling me what to do, what I was doing wrong, and I've been doing this all of my life, I don't need some pompous twat telling me how to live my life." Rachel felt another surge of annoyance. Why did he always insist he knew better than everyone else? She hoped that wasn't what she was like. Yes, she could be obnoxious, but Jesse was just arrogant, and cruel with it.

"Of course. When have you ever thought of anyone besides yourself?" Jesse's eyes narrowed. He kept his hands in his pockets, but a slight anger flashed through his eyes. It reminded Rachel of the _Run Joey Run _incident, to which he had completely over reacted. Perhaps he had just always wanted an excuse to break up with her, but then why had he come back? Why had he returned just to break her heart all over again?

"You'd be surprised," he snapped, in a voice that told her he knew something she didn't, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Rachel rolled her eyes at him and turned away towards the till. She'd wasted long enough chatting to him. It was supposed to be a quick trip.

"I came back for you," he called after her, stopping her in her tracks. She swung around on her heel, the shock already on her face. He saw it before she could mask it. "I wanted to make things right, I know we ended on a bad note last year." A bad note? It had been more than that. She'd trusted him, she'd given him her heart and almost her virginity and he had thrown it all back in her face. He'd known it would be her first time when she was preparing to sleep with him, and all along he knew he was using her. What sort of person was prepared to take that off someone they cared nothing for?

"Well whose fault it that?" Rachel shot back, finally masking her surprise.

"Not as much mine as you'd like to think," he replied, his calm demeanour back.

With an angry sigh, Rachel went to leave again. Another ex back in her life was the last thing she needed with everything that was going on with Finn. She could not even begin to sort out the relationships she had, let alone dig up old ones to examine and torture herself over. Jesse was in the past, and that was where she wanted him to stay.

"I never meant to use you Rachel," he said, stopping her again. Dammit, why did he always do that? Why could he not just let her go? Why could _she _not just walk away?

"Save it Jesse," she snapped back, refusing to look at him, but she could feel his presence behind her. He had caught up the few steps she had made towards the till and was standing within inches of her. Ahead, Rachel could see the shop assistant watching them, as if they were a fascinating show on the television, and if it weren't for the fact she still didn't have her milk, and didn't actually _want _to talk to Jesse, Rachel would have dragged him outside for some privacy.

"If you didn't want to use me, then why did you not just say no? You could have told Vocal Adrenaline that you weren't doing it from the start, or even if it was afterwards your conscience kicked in, you could have told them you weren't going to hurt me and let me down gently. You especially did not have to dump eggs on my head. Don't give me 'I didn't mean to', Jesse, when you had every opportunity to back out!" Rachel's voice had risen slightly and she lowered it again with a sideways glance at the assistant.

She glared at him, clutching the milk harder than was necessary in one hand, but Jesse's face remained calm. He didn't look half as wound up as she was, but a tiny flash of something that resembled guilt shot through his eyes, but then it was gone again and Rachel wondered if she had imagined it completely.

"I didn't do it for Vocal Adrenaline," he said, calmly. "Whatever you may think about them, this was not some elaborate plot to break your heart before Regionals."

"Then what was it?" She had raised her voice again. The assistant was shooting her dirty looks. Rachel took a deep breath to calm herself, and slammed the milk down onto the nearest shelf. It was cold and it didn't look as if she was going to be purchasing it any time soon.

"I did it because Shelby asked me to."

For once, Rachel was stunned into silence. She must have heard him wrong. Shelby? As in her mother? What reason would she ever have to ask a student to use had and then fling her aside like yesterday's trash? But then, what reason would her mother ever have to treat her in the exact same way herself? Anger began to course through her, so strong that she barely heard what Jesse was saying. He was trying to explain it to her, but the only person Rachel wanted an explanation from was Shelby herself.

"...contact you herself." Rachel had no idea how that sentence had started, and neither did she care. She was too angry to think of anything but confronting the woman that had rejected and abandoned her time and time again. With a cry of fury, Rachel turned on her heel and that time she didn't stop, not even when Jesse called after her and the shop assistant muttered about time wasters. She didn't care about either of them, all she cared about was finding her _mother _and giving her a little piece of everything she had kept so deeply inside of herself.

And all the time she could feel _mommy's girl _burning on beneath her clothes.

**Well I was going to write the confrontation in this chapter, but decided to split it so it will be in the next one instead. I think this will end up really long otherwise, and whereas there's nothing much wrong with that, it will just be easier to split it. And that way you can get this update sooner. **

**Also, I am about to have a rant about the lateset Glee epiosde (Asian F), so if you haven't seen it, stop reading. **

**1. Why is Kurt being so hard on Rachel about running alongside him? I was talking to my friend Jodie who recently ran for school council and asked if she would have been upset if I'd decided to run too, and she said she wouldn't have cared, it's a free country. Rachel is well within her right to do as she pleases and the best person will win. **

**2. Why is he mad at Rachel, but not Blaine, who accepted the role of Tony in the play after telling Kurt he wasn't going to go for it? It's basically the same concept, so why is he being super sweet to Blaine about the whole thing, yet yelling at Rachel?**

**3. Mercedes. End of point, she just annoyed me. **

**4. Is it just me, or has everyone else always got the impression Mr Schue doesn't think much of Rachel? She is not his favourite by a long shot.**

**5. It is high time Rachel also had a massive go at someone. **

**6. And another thing about Kurt (I do love him, don't get me wrong), he was hardly sweetness and light to Rachel in season 1 and half of 2, and he's never apologised for any of it. Neither has Finn, and Shelby was all like 'I want to have a relationship with you' but she is also yet to say the words 'I'm sorry'. The only one who has ever said he's sorry is Puck, so kudos to him. **

**Anyway, sorry for the really long author's note/rant, I just wanted to moan and thought who better to moan to than a Glee fandom, who are all on my side about Rachel being mistreated by her 'friends' (otherwise you wouldn't be reading this). **


	14. Chapter 14

**Trigger warning. I don't even like Shelby, I don't know why I'm bringing her into this yet again, but my stories have this annoying habit of writing themselves. **

She was not even half way down the street when Rachel felt someone grab her arm in a tight enough grip to stop her in her tracks, but not hard enough to hurt. She swung around, so furious she wanted to hit whoever it was who had stopped her from confronting her mother. Jesse. Of course. He never knew when to just leave her alone. Rachel wrenched her arm out of his hold and glared at him so furiously that even he backed up a step.

"Just stop," he commanded, his face hardening at the sight of her scowl. "I know Shelby, she coached throughout my high school life and the last thing she's going to appreciate if you breaking down her door and storming in there screaming."

"I don't care!" Shouted Rachel, so loudly that it instantly made her throat burn. She could not explain why she was so angry. Jesse's revelation gave her the right to be mad, but she had moved on from him long ago and she had no contact with her mother, so there was no rational part of her that should be so furious. All she knew was that the anger was coursing through her veins so strongly that she wanted to scream and tear apart whatever she could get her hands on. "What on earth makes you think that I am going to consider her feelings for one moment when she has done nothing but carefully plan how best to stomp all over mine?"

"No offence Rachel, but I know her better than you do and she did not set out to hurt you." Rachel shook her head, refusing to believe him. If Shelby had never meant to hurt her, then why had she tossed her aside after just a couple of days, having never really given it a chance to _know _her. Why had she rejected her again, when she had asked that she simply help coach her Glee Club, just as she had done for hundreds of nameless strangers over the years? Why had she asked Jesse to reel her in and spit her cruelly back out?

"That's exactly it Jesse," she said, her voice suddenly much quieter. "You know her better than I do, you are nothing more than her student and I am her daughter. Do you not see how messed up that is? How much it hurts?" Rachel wiped away the tear that had escaped down her left cheek, turning her anger in on herself for giving into her emotions and crying.

Jesse called after her when she turned away from him once again and resumed her previous mission of storming towards where she knew her mother lived, but he didn't chase her. Perhaps he realised it was something she needed to do. Or maybe he just didn't care about anyone else but himself, just as she had last judged as he left her alone and dripping with raw egg in her school parking lot.

…

Rachel heard her mother before she saw her. She heard her voice for the second time that month; the first, it had felt as if she had pushed the knife she had shoved in Rachel's heart the year before in even deeper, just to make sure it never came out. The second, it sounded angry and impatient as she shouted to the person trying to pound down her door to have some consideration and patience. Rachel ignored her and continued right on pounding until the door swung open, and then she was there, her mother, standing right in front of her and looking just as surprised as Rachel was angry.

"Rachel," she said, curtly. She did not look pleased to see her estranged daughter, and neither did she invite her in, which only fuelled Rachel's anger. She could not stand the way her mother was stood there looking so calm when she felt as if she could scream, or just fall to the floor and never pick herself up again.

"How could you?" Rachel demanded, crossing her arms over her chest to prevent them physically shaking from anger. She could not understand the fury that had overcome her. It was the same as how she had felt when Finn walked in on her and Noah, only worse. Then, once she had shouted and stormed, it was enough for her to calm down. That time, she had already done those things and it had only made her even more angry. Shelby did not bat an eyelid at Rachel's obvious fury, but simply looked at her as if she were no one more than the milkman.

"Can we not do this outside?" Was all she said,holding the door open wider for Rachel to come in. She was tempted to stay standing on the doorstep and do just the opposite to what her mother was asking, but she herself didn't particularly want a street scene. As dramatic and interesting as it would be, the issue was between herself and her mother, and had nothing to do with the rest of Lima. With another glare in Shelby's direction, Rachel stormed into the house.

From the way she was looking at her, Rachel could tell her mother was not taking her seriously. She was staring her out as if she were a kid with a tantrum. Of course, that's what she always was. A moody child, nothing to be taken seriously. Even the scars that maimed her skin were just her over reacting, being a drama queen as usual. There she was, more angry than she could ever remember being in her life, and the woman that had caused that anger was as casual as if she had just came over to borrow some sheet music.

"Look, Rachel, we've been through this. Time and time again, you can't keep doing this," she sighed, and Rachel felt another pang of rejection. She had not even asked her for anything, yet Shelby was still telling her to back off and leave her to her perfect life with her replacement daughter. Rachel scowled at her.

"I'm not here about that! You made your feelings perfectly clear and I am very aware of where I stand with you. What I don't understand is why you throwing me aside like an unwanted Christmas present wasn't enough! Why did you have to ask Jesse to use me too?" Shelby sighed, finally cottoning on to what Rachel was talking about. She had hoped they could both manage to go a lifetime without that coming up, but the hope, it seemed, had been too much to believe in.

"There's no need to shout Rachel. I did not ask Jesse to use you. My words were 'befriend her', and I never asked him to hurt you the way he did. I had serious words with him about that, believe me." But Rachel didn't believe her. She had never shown one ounce of evidence that she cared anything about her daughter's feelings, let alone enough to fall out with her _perfect _student over. The student that was obviously so much better than she was.

"NO!" Rachel cried, too angry for composure. "You must have known what he was like, you've known him a long time. You asked him to beguile me in order to do what? Use him as a tool in your twisted little experiment? What was the point _mom, _in asking him to do anything at all only to cut all ties with me after just two days."

Shelby sighed again, sounding more irritated than sorry, but a flash of something that could be mistaken for guilt shot through her eyes before they once again hardened and she went back to looking at Rachel as if she couldn't wait to be rid of the bump in her otherwise perfect life.

"It is not my fault that things didn't work out between us. I know you weren't happy with the way things panned out, neither was I, but I'm not ready for this Rachel. Neither of us are. Now I would appreciate it if you could lower your voice. There is a baby sleeping upstairs."

Rachel flinched. She had forgotten all about Beth, but now she remembered, it was like the tiny girl had morphed into a gorge, pushing the divide between herself and her mother to even greater lengths. Any other time, she would have traded to speaking more quietly, but under the circumstances, she did not owe her mother anything. And it hurt to know Shelby was so concerned with Beth waking up and crying, yet was acting as if Rachel's obvious distress was nothing more than a fly buzzing around the room.

"Things didn't work out between us because you were not prepared to fight for a relationship. The chase was just so _glorious, _wasn't it? Just another fun project in your life, something to occupy the long lonely hours. But then you had me, and just like everyone else who has ever set eyes on me, you decided I wasn't good enough."

The conversation was no longer about Jesse. It never really had been. That news had just been the straw that broke the camel's back. Rachel could even understand her mother's motives there, her adoption had been a closed one and she would not have been allowed to contact her until she was of age. Using Jesse meant Shelby could get in touch with her without breaking any laws, and despite her accusations, Rachel knew her mother had probably not known what Jesse was going to do, or what he could really be like. What she was truly mad about was everything that surrounded the boy that had tied them both together.

"I'm not doing this right now. We've discussed this, you know my reasons for not wanting to-"

"Yes, I've heard your reasons," Rachel interrupted. "And I have no wish to hear them again."

The door swung open without warning and both Rachel and Shelby turned toward it, jumping slightly as if they had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Jesse strode into the house, glancing from mother to daughter and back again. He took in Rachel's face, twisted with anger and hurt and Shelby's calm one, masked of all emotion. "I told you not to come here," he said to Rachel, as if they were in a thriller movie, but somehow, from his lips, it sounded chilling rather than cheesy. She glared at him.

"You have no more right to dictate what I do than she does," she said, coldly, gesturing with her head towards her mother. Rachel turned back to Shelby, her glare going stronger.

"Do you want to know what I hope?" She said, quietly. " I hope Beth grows up to hate you, I hope she does everything she can to avoid spending time with you, because then you will know what it feels like to love somebody who wants nothing more than to push you out of their lives without a backward glance."

For the first time since Rachel had practically knocked down the door, Shelby looked as furious as she felt. Recognising the danger signs, Jesse stepped between them, taking Rachel by the shoulders and staring right into her face. "Rachel. Stop," he growled, his fingers digging into her shoulder blades. "That's enough."

Had she not been so determined not to show that amount of weakness in front of them, Rachel would have burst into tears. Why was no one ever on her side? After years of taunting, she had finally snapped back and it was her Mr Schue chose to blame. It was always the same story, even when she was a child and one of her dads would get mad, the other one would never defend her against him, even if the anger was irrational. She had faced rejection after rejection from her mother, and now, as she wished the same on her, Jesse was condemning her for the trouble.

But Jesse must have seen the expression on her face change from fury to just plain hurt, because his hands travelled down her arms and settled on her waist, his thumbs stroking her sides, soothingly. Only his touch felt all wrong. It did not have the same, calming quality it once had, it could no longer make her feel special and wanted and like she actually meant something. He had been in her life at a time she had felt most rejected, and he had made her feel wanted. But now his touch just sent a shiver shooting through her body.

"Calm down," he murmured, his thumbs still running along her sides. Then they ran along the deep and still painful cuts that littered her stomach, and having not expected it, Rachel could not help the cry of pain that fell from her lips. She knew that Jesse had heard it too from the way his gaze became all the more intense. His fingers closed around the hem of her top, but before he could lift it and reveal her secret to the one person she would go the most lengths to hide it from, Rachel pushed his hands away and backed out of his hold.

Jesse watched her, his eyes following every step she took and behind him, Rachel could see her mother, her gaze flickering between the two of them with confusion knitted within her features. "Lift up your top," said Jesse, quietly, an order rather than request.

"I believe I have every right to refuse that," Rachel shot back, but she could hear the tremble in her own voice and knew neither of the others would have missed it. She had to leave. Jesse was right, she should never have even come. He took a step towards her, as if to force her into his command, but Rachel had expected him and backed to the door, pulling it open ready to run out if he came anywhere near her.

Just before she walked out of it, Rachel turned back to her mother, fixing her gaze upon her hard, confused one and quiet calmly, she said: "You'd better go, your daughter needs you." Then she stepped outside and slammed the door behind her, listening as right on cue a piercing cry broke out from inside.

**Just to make one thing clear before questions arise, this is not going to be St Berry. Never ever, ever, ever, ever. I hate the pairing. Jesse is manipulative and secretive and Rachel is trusting. Lethal combination. I know people will disagree and insist Finn's the creep, but let's not get into a fight here. Just no St Berry. Ever. **

**Review? Pretty please with a Nargle on top? **


	15. Chapter 15

**Trigger warning. I forgot Finn and Rachel aren't together in this fic and just started to write a Finchel scene before realising. **

It was getting harder. She had gone to Shelby and splashed her feelings around the hall for both of them to see, and now reigning them back in was impossible. Rachel tried. She really did. But then she would be talking to Kurt and a wave of despair would hit her with barely any prior warning, and she'd suddenly be on the verge of tears; she blinked them away and carried on the conversation as normal, but she heard the pain in her own voice, and she knew he heard it too. Sometimes, she'd just lapse into silence without even realising she was doing it until she heard Kurt or Noah's voice drifting to her from somewhere far away and she was snapped back into reality.

She still hadn't gone back to glee. She told Kurt, in a typical Rachel fashion, that she wasn't going back until they learned to appreciate her talent, but she was pretty sure he didn't buy it. He'd just look at her, sadly, and Rachel knew he was remembering what she had said before she had walked out. She had meant what she said. She wasn't going back, not that time. She really was done. It was too hard trying to pretend she didn't care that she so clearly loved them all so much more than they were ever going to love her.

They were a family, that's what Mr Schue, and even the others always said, but if that were true, she was the outcast. The one everyone put up with because of blood ties but didn't actually like. But she was tired of that, tired of being the trophy only used to make the family mantelpiece look more shiny. Rachel was sure they wouldn't miss her, perhaps when it come to Regionals they might, they'd need her voice, but they certainly wouldn't miss her in meetings.

Puck had said she made him want to light himself on fire. Artie had called her "totally irritating". Quinn wanted to punch her in the face every time she spoke. Santana thought she was good for no more than to insult. Finn thought she was capable of sleeping with Puck when she was still with him. Mercedes thought she was self absorbed and mean. Even Mr Schue thought she was too selfish to be a part of Glee Club, so she wasn't going to be anymore. It was too much hard work with nothing to gain. It would be so much easier to disappear that way.

So Rachel began to go through the motions. She went to school. She attended all of her classes. She met up with Kurt once he was done with Glee and at weekends. Sometimes, Finn joined them and Rachel didn't mind, as long as she wasn't alone with him too much, and he didn't try and be anymore than her friend. The direction was the same, but she had changed character, she had played the part so often that she no longer felt the emotion that came with being. It was just a role, her own life had become nothing more than a show.

…

Rachel held her bag firmly to her shoulder as she walked with her head down along the hall. Lately, she had taken to invisibility. She no longer wanted to be noticed by everyone around her, she no longer wanted to be the centre of attention, she no longer wanted the spotlight. Being noticed was overrated, all it had ever got her was slushies in the face, several shoves into the lockers, derogatory comments on her my space page and painful insults.

When she tried to make herself noticed, she repelled people. They hated that side of her because they only noticed the outside show face. They noticed the arrogance, the confidence and forever happy personality. They didn't notice _her, _not the person underneath the one who spoke before thinking and more often than not ended up offending someone. The girl underneath that almost always _did _the right thing, even if she couldn't always say it, she cared about the people around her, and was kind to them, even when they were not kind to her. But all anyone ever chose to see was the bad. Even the kids from Glee avoided her in the corridor, they thought she was still furious with them, and in turn had decided they were going to be angry with her. It was only Kurt who seemed to realise she was not mad, just sad.

But her not being noticed wasn't going as well as she had hoped. Rachel felt something heavy slam into her shoulder, coming so unexpectedly that she was once again thrown into the lockers she was passing, her head slamming into one of the metal doors. She gasped in pain, her hand immediately flying to her temple. She turned around just in time to see Karofsky storming down the corridor, not even looking back at the damage he had caused.

That had been his new way of bullying her for some time. He'd deliberately knock into her and continue walking as if nothing had happened, or be casually sitting in the cafeteria with his legs stretched out so she fell over them with her lunch tray. Sometimes he would walk past her while she rummaged in her locker, his fingers brushing against her behind as he went. All 'accidents' of course. He could torment her and no one would ever notice.

With trembling hands, Rachel pushed herself away from the lockers and wrapped her hands around the strap of her bag, holding it even tighter. She wished she had an invisibility cloak so she could disappear completely. With her head down, she didn't notice Kurt running up behind her, and struggled to hold back a scream as he broke his run by grabbing hold of her shoulders, fearing it was Karofsky again.

"Kurt!" she sighed in relief when she saw who it was. "Don't do that, you scared me."

"I was trying to," he replied, kindly. Rachel scowled at him. Then it came again. The urge to tell him everything if only so she didn't have to feel so alone. It would be easy, he already knew there was something wrong, she wasn't attending Glee anymore, Finn had told her himself that Kurt was worried. All she'd have to do was tell him she lied that day on the lake. But one look at the smile on his face and she couldn't do it. She couldn't be the one to wipe that away.

Instead, she took his hand in hers, clasping it tightly. Telling him was impossible, but feeling him beside her, his hand in hers, was a comfort. She knew from the way his fingers closed around her hand in return without question that when she was ready to tell him, he would listen.

...

Since Rachel had broken up with Finn and Blaine had late Warbler practice, Friday night had become her and Kurt's 'date night'. Every week, at 7.00 o'clock, Kurt would knock on Rachel's door dressed in the only boyish outfit he had in his closet as he had practically disappeared the one and only time he had tried to wear Finn's clothes. For the night, the two would appear the perfect couple. Holding hands wherever they walked, bickering pointlessly about what type of popcorn to buy at the movies, and then again over which row they would sit in.

But for the first time, Rachel found herself dreading the date rather than looking forward to it. There was no rational reason she would not want to go, she loved Kurt, she loved their dates, she loved the performance they put on to the world, and that night they had planned to go and see a local performance of _Funny Girl, _and harshly critique it throughout, as well as joining in with every line and song, but her heart just wasn't in it. She did not want to get ready and go out. She did not want to put on a face for another few hours and pretend she was still the happy person she had once been. She just didn't want to be with anyone.

Just as she reached for her phone, quickly checking her clock to make sure it wasn't too late to cancel, the shrill sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Rachel's hope of spending an evening alone plummeted. He was early. And he was going to freak at her, she wasn't even dressed, having changed into her pyjamas as soon as she got in, and her hair was tied in a messy bun to the back of her head. Perhaps they could stay in and watch the movie.

The doorbell rang again and Rachel trailed slowly down the stairs to answer it, not bothering to call out that she was on her way. She didn't much care if Kurt gave up and left, she would just call him later with an excuse, tell him she was sorry but her dads came home early and insisted they go out for a meal. She hated lying to him, but being forced to do it on a daily basis was making it less and less of a chore. At least that time it would be a white lie purely in place to spare his feelings.

But much to her disappointment, the person didn't go away, and the closer Rachel got to the door, the less they looked like her best friend. For a start, it was clearly a woman, and as much as Kurt was often mistaken for one, Rachel was used to him enough to be able to tell the difference. Which must mean it was someone there to see her dads. The dads that were not going to be there until Sunday night. Rachel hated this part, she was seventeen, but many people still seemed to think that was too young to be left alone for days. Personally, she thought it was good practise for when she went to college in little over a year.

The speech was already prepared in her mind as Rachel flung open the door, but all words quickly erased themselves from her mind when she saw who was on the other side.

"Rachel, I need to speak to your dads, are they in?" Demanded Shelby, striding right past her without waiting for an invitation inside the house. Rachel stared at her, guessing her mother must have felt much the same way when she came knocking on her door a few days ago. Her visit was so unexpected, that Rachel could not even find an answer for that simple question, although it must have already been obvious to Shelby that they were not. Not only were their cars not on the drive, but other than her own voice, there was no other sound inside the house.

"No," said Rachel, bluntly. She didn't feel like explaining to her mother where they were, and her mind was still too blank to come up with anything.

"Well where are they, do you know when they will be back?" Rachel wanted to say something about just striding right into people's houses without invitation, but that would be too hypocritical of her to voice, and at least Shelby wasn't shouting. But what on earth could she want with her dads? Was she going to talk to them about her? Get them to ask her to back off and leave her mother alone? If that was the case, she was wasting her time. Rachel well and truly had the message.

"Sunday." Finally, Shelby turned to face her daughter with raised eyebrows. She stared her up and down, noticing first the pyjamas, which was weird enough at 6.45. But perhaps Rachel was one of those people who changed as soon as she got home from school, finding pyjamas more comfortable to mooch around the house in. But she also looked paler than the last time Shelby had seen her and much thinner since they had said goodbye.

"I could pass on a message if you would like," offered Rachel, the first actual sentence she had so far said, and Rachel herself was surprised to hear no anger in her voice. She wanted to still be furious, but the anger had left her almost as soon as she had stormed from Shelby's house. She didn't regret what she had done, and she was not sorry for shouting, but neither did she have the energy to hold a grudge. Anger just ate her up from the inside out, it twisted and blackened her insides. Anger was all consuming and would turn her into one of those who had done so much wrong by her, and there was still enough of herself left for Rachel to know she didn't want to become that.

At least, that's what Rachel tried to tell herself. Anger wasn't good for her, it would no nothing to assist her Broadway career. She'd need to smile, be plesant to her fans, in interviews and auditions. She couldn't storm in there with a scowl and expect to get the part. So she plastered on a smile, she forced negative resentment to the back of her mind, but it was still there. It would come out unexpectedly in the form of a rare mean comment, or an angry outburst at not receiving a solo. She'd shout and storm when she didn't really care at all, she was just so furious with the world that the anger couldn't be surpressed any longer. But that was irrational, and rarely acceptable, so Rachel kept it on a down low. She forgave people, she tried to be the person she imagined from the start, but sometimes, it was just so hard not to be angry.

"No," replied Shelby, taking on Rachel's habit of one word sentences. "There's something I need to talk to them about alone," she added when Rachel's face fell. Well that confirmed it. She was going to get them to ask Rachel to back off, and since they had never really wanted Shelby in her life anyway, they would be more than happy to oblige. She wanted to tell her mother not to bother, she knew just where she stood with her, but the words wouldn't come.

Shelby was still watching her, in a way that Rachel was beginning to find uncomfortable. She had come to see her dads, and they weren't in, so why didn't she just leave? Clearly the visit was awkward for both of them. But her mother was watching her like she was trying to find answers in her image, almost as if she wanted Rachel to do or say something specific, but clueless as to what she wanted, Rachel stood there and said nothing, she barely even moved.

The Shelby's eyes widened slightly and her eyebrows raised even further. Rachel turned away, withering under her mother's gaze. She was looking at her like...like she was a failing student daring to ask for a glowing reference. Like she was nothing worthy, someone she barely even knew the name of, let alone cared for. Rachel was concentrating so hard on not giving way to the threatening tears that she barely heard her mother's next words.

"What did you do to your head?" It took Rachel a few seconds to catch on to what she was talking about, and even then she was lost as to why Shelby would be asking about it. Even her dads barely noticed new scraps and bruises left there by Karofsky and his football team. But she couldn't tell Shelby that. Her mother thought she was enough of a loser as it was without adding to it by admitting she was the school's target.

"I-I fell during dance class," she lied, knowing at once that her acting skills had failed her. She had stammered, which was the first sure sign that someone was lying, and she had not looked at Shelby. She'd also hesitated before answering. She'd have to work on that in the future. At least the slip up had been in front of the person who was least likely to care and not Kurt or Noah, or even her dads, who did care about her, even if they weren't always the best at showing it.

"You know, I think I do need to talk to you after all," Shelby decided, throwing Rachel into an instant panic. She didn't want to talk to her mother. Having her sit down with her dads and tell them Rachel needed to leave her alone would be bad enough, but hearing another rejection with her own ears would be even worse.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, I was about to begin the procedure of getting ready to go out when you arrived. I shall just make this easier on both of us and promise you now that need not have anything more to do with me."

Shelby frowned and opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word the doorbell rang again, much to Rachel's relief. Although Kurt was going to kill her when he saw she was wearing her pyjamas and hadn't even began to do anything to her hair. She turned back to the door, opening it to let him in as she mentally prepared herself for his outrage.

"Well that was fast," said Kurt I surprise. "Do you hang on the other side of that door eagerly awaiting my arrival."

"What else would I do with my Friday evening?" she replied, just as Kurt caught sight of Shelby standing behind her. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.

"I'll explain later," Rachel promised before he could say anything and opened the door wider, inviting him inside.

Finally realising she had outstayed her welcome, Shelby started towards the door, but just before she left, she turned back to Rachel and told her on no uncertain terms that she still needed to speak to her and her fathers, and she would come back at another time. Rachel stared after her in surprise and felt a slight surge of anger shoot through her. Was Rachel's word not enough? Did she have to make sure she hurt and humiliated her as much as possible?

"What in the name of Prada was that all about?" Kurt's voice startled Rachel, in the few seconds she had focused her attention back on her mother, she had almost forgotten he was there.

"Nothing important," she said, matter of factly. "She just wants a word with my dads to make sure the message hits home that she wants nothing more to do with me."

The curious look fell away from Kurt's face which was suddenly filled with a pity that made Rachel want to run as far away from him as she could get. Instead, she plastered on her show face and gestured to her pyjamas. "You've arrived just in time to help me chose my least offending outfit to impress," she said, brightly, and before Kurt could say another word, she'd dashed past him and up the stairs, leaving an empty space in front of him where is best friend had once stood.

**Another thing that annoyed me about the latest episode was when Mercedes said that no one wants to hurt Rachel's feelings. Not being funny, but she's insulted in every episode and no one really makes a secret of the fact that she's just a good voice. I get that she's pissed about always taking the back seat, but there's a reason for that which has nothing to do with Rachel. Jesse was right (and I hate the dude, so I would not admit that unless I really believed it), she's lazy. She demands things, but isn't prepared to fight for them. That said, I have nothing against Mercedes and get that she's getting tired of not being in the spotlight. **

**Thanks so much for all your reviews from the last chapter, I wasn't expecting that many, but not complaining :) If you all want to do it again, that's fine ;) **


	16. Chapter 16

**Trigger warning. I really appreciate all of your reviews guys :) **

Rachel waited until long after the last person had left the bathroom to come out of her stall. She didn't want to risk bumping into anyone who would make another snide comment at her. That day had been worse than she had experienced in a long time. Karofsky had hissed 'fag spawn' in her ear on three separate occasions, Quinn had called her man hands, hobbit and Rupaul, Santana had told her to get a nose job and lose some weight while she was at it, Brittany had sheepishly mumbled that she was prettier than Rachel and she had been slushied three times. For the third one, she had no change of clothes, so had taken residence in a toilet cubicle until everyone else had gone.

Ten insults, and that was if the laughter while the drinks were flung in her face didn't count. They might not be direct words, but she heard the name laced in each laugh that followed her down the hall: loser. Rachel didn't even know if she had room for ten. She didn't want to move any further down her leg, her habit had spread enough as it was. It had only ever meant to be her stomach, confined to one easy to hide place, but it had flowed across her body like a disease for which there was no cure. It certainly felt that way.

The bathroom mirror had a large crack running through it, splitting Rachel herself in two as she stared into it. What was it other people saw in her that made them hate her so much? They all gave their own reasons: she was fat, she wore the wrong clothes, she was obnoxious, her nose was too big for her face, she had an irritating voice, she was exceedingly annoying, no one wanted her, she was too confident for her own good, she was uppity and sometimes rude. Perhaps they would change their minds about her if they knew the truth. Or perhaps they would just see her as even more of a freak than they already did.

Rachel wiped the soap that had lathered on her hands onto the mirror, blurring her reflection and blotting it from view. Good. She didn't want to look at her own face any longer. Her ugly, rounded face that stared back at her with such pathetic sad eyes. She hated that part of her more than anything else. The part that actually let them get to her, that was so weak that she had resorted to hurting herself so their words didn't sting so badly. The one who cried all alone because of the effort it took to smile in front of everyone. Of course no one would like her better if they knew that, they would hate her as much as she hated herself.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel wiped her hands dry on her already ruined top and slowly left the bathroom. The corridor was deserted when she walked into it, and her feet clacked against the hard floor, echoing through the silent walls in an eerie manner that reminded her of the dream she had a lifetime ago. The walls were covered in nothing more than posters about the dangers of drinking and slushies stains, but Rachel could see the words that scarred her skin etched there, as bright and bold as the midday sun.

To avoid them, she kept her eyes firmly focused on the floor. The feeling of freedom at not having to look where she was going at all times in case of an oncoming slushie was a nice one, as was being able to walk down the corridor of her school without being shouted after, or being plagued by laughter. There was no one else around but her, and for the first time in months, Rachel felt lighter as she walked through her school. She didn't have to worry about the next insult that would come her way, and it made her wish she'd never thought of hiding before.

The relief was short lived when Rachel felt a strong grasp close around her arm as soon as she stepped out of the front doors and she let out a short scream. With a quick spin, she found her fears were justified as Karofsky stood leering at her, a smug smirk lingering on his lips at having scared her. "If it's so easy to make you scream, this is going to be a blast." He spoke casually, but there was an edge of a threat in his voice that Rachel couldn't ignore. She swallowed hard and tried to pull her arm from his grip, but he held fast.

"If you do not take your hand off me right now I will scream so loudly that everyone within a two mile radius will come running," she warned, but Karofsky merely chuckled.

"I know you've got a gob on you Rupaul, but if you dare open it, I'll make this so much harder on you." He dug his fingers hard into her arm, tightly enough to leave bruises to prove he was serious. Rachel bit her bottom lip so it stung painfully, the only weapon she had against the footballer who was more than twice her size.

Karofsky stormed down the steps, his hand still wrapped around her arm, and Rachel had no choice but to follow him, stumbling as she tried to keep up with his long strides. By the time they reached the back of the building, Karofsky was practically dragging Rachel behind him, who had began to cry, silently. She hated herself for showing such a weakness, but controlling her emotions had never been her strong point, not even after all the years of practise. A blind, naive part of her still believed if people saw her tears, their conscience might kick somewhere inside them.

In the next moment, Rachel felt her body slam heavily against the wall and the tooth that was still chewing on her bottom lip sunk right through it. She tasted blood. She let out a noise, somewhere between a cry of pain and a gasp of shock. He had handled her more aggressively than that in the past, but there was something different about the way he was doing it then. Before, there had always been others around. He'd 'accidentally' knock into her, sending her flying into the lockers. But now it was just them, and Rachel could not remember ever feeling so afraid.

"I heard you never even did it with Hudson," he murmured, his face just inches from hers. He was so close, Rachel could see the different flecks of colour in his eyes. "Maybe the fags passed the gene onto you. Now there's a disgusting thought. What's the world gonna do if it's catching?" Rachel could not even find the words to lecture him on ignorance, she had left her voice somewhere on the steps.

"Shall we test that theory? Either it isn't catching, and the world is safe, or it is and...well then we'll have to do something about that won't we?" Rachel's breath hitched in her throat. She did not even dare to blink. If she closed her eyes for a second, just a split moment, he would kill her. She was sure of it. She heard the no so hidden threat in his words. He was going to do what he liked with her, and she either enjoy it, or she wouldn't live long enough to tell a soul.

Karofsky's hands slid onto her waist, and Rachel's mind was instantly thrown to God. She had not prayed in a long time, not since Finn had broken up with her and she had lost the one good thing in her life. As far as she was concerned, that was the day God had turned His back on her, and she had done the same in retaliation. When she had lost everything she had hung on for, her God had stopped being one she wanted lean against. She'd learned the only one she could really depend upon was herself. But now she willed Him to be there, just one last time to stop the thing that would surely kill her, one way or another.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she prayed and felt his hands slide up her top, his fingers running along her stomach. Her stomach. Rachel froze. Karofsky did too. His hands pulled away, suddenly, and she felt the hem of her top being whisked up to a blast of cool air, and her eyes shot open to meet her tormentor's shocked ones. The shock quickly turned to malice. They glinted with a glee that she had not seen on anyone for a very long time and it made her feel sick that someone could look so _happy _about something she knew was so horrifying. It was like watching someone point and laugh as a car ploughed into the body of a child.

"You're even sicker in the head than your fag dads," he spat with a chuckle. "You know what Berry? It's your lucky day. I've just found something so much more fun to play with." He laughed again, that time throwing back his head and letting the sound boom out around the empty grounds before turning and striding away from her.

Rachel finally let out the breath she had been holding since he had threatened her and slipped down the wall where she sat slumped on the floor, shaking. She did not know what was worse, what had _almost _happened, or what _had _happened. He was going to tell everyone. But he hadn't touched her. God had listened to her prayer, but He had answered it in the most twisted way possible.

…

A thumping on his front door that sounded as if someone were attempting to break it down was not what Puck wanted to hear just as he sat down to watch the hockey match. It was one of the rare occasions both his mom and sister were out, and he wanted to make the most of it with popcorn and having the volume on the TV turned up as loudly as he wanted with whatever show he liked. He did not appreciate it being interrupted by someone who did not even know how to use a doorbell. But what he was not expecting was to be met with a sobbing Rachel Berry, who looked so relieved to see him, despite the pissed off look he could feel on his face, that his anger soon dissolved.

"Noah!" She cried, and launched herself into his arms. Puck stumbled but regained his balance in time to catch her and held her fast against him as he felt her body shake with sobs he couldn't hear. At least his mom was out, if she walked into the hall to find him in such an intimate embrace with Rachel, he would never hear the end of it. Puck's mom was their greatest shipper, and had been sourly disappointed with their failed relationship at the beginning of the previous year.

But his mom was the least of Puck's worries as he held a crying Rachel Berry, locked tightly in his arms. He did not do soppy, and he did not do feelings, but neither did he do being called Noah, and she got away with that. She was also probably the only girl in the world who could cry into his new shirt and not send him running for the hills. With a gentle sigh, Puck slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back and hauled her into his arms, bridal style before backing into the hall and kicking the door shut.

She was light, much easier to carry than she should have been, but at that moment, Puck was more concerned with the damp patch he could feel forming on his shirt. Not because his mom had just bought it for him, but because they were Berry's tears. His little Jewish princess, and the only girl he had ever really cared about _without _getting into her pants. He dropped her gently onto the couch and sat down next to her. Not that he had much choice, she was still clinging to him as if he were the only thing stopping her dropping through the floor into the ninth circle of hell.

"My life's over Noah," he heard Rachel sob. At least, he was pretty sure that was what she said, but it was hard to hear her through the combination of his clothes and her cries that muffled her voice. He was used to Rachel and her dramatic, but there was something in her tone that told him she really meant it that time. That and the fact that it had been so long since he had seen her cry. "He _knows. _Karofsky. He saw them." Her broken sentences barely made sense to him, but there was only one thing she could really be talking about. But how the fuck would Karofsky know?

Rachel let out another harsh sob, and Puck raised a hand to stroke her hair, awkwardly. He wanted to say something comforting, or at least bad ass to make her laugh, but he had nothing. He was seriously out of practise with the crying girl on his shoulder thing. "So? He's just some wanker. If he tells anyone, threaten to tell the whole school he's gay or something."

He felt her head shake against his chest, but he could have sworn he heard the faint sound of a giggle through her sobs. "Can't-can't you tell him to back off?" She pleaded without taking her head away. "Although I do not condone violence in any way, in this case I will not protest to you less than politely warning him that he dare not breathe a word of a secret that is not his to tell."

Puck resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. Even when she was so upset, she couldn't just say 'beat him up for me.' But then he thought about what she was asking. She wanted _him _to stop her secret from getting around the school. Once again, she wanted him to be the one to make sure no one else ever knew. Now he didn't really want to pass up any chance to fight Karofsky, but he also didn't really want him to stay quiet. Puck himself couldn't tell the world, he could never do that to her, but that didn't mean he was going to stop someone else.

"No," he said, bluntly. Now that, he was used to. "If this is what it takes to get you to stop doing that to yourself, I'm not gonna stop it," Puck explained as he felt her body become rigid against his.

She finally pulled away from him, backing away enough so that he got a full view of her face and almost wished he hadn't. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, both stained and those that were still wet, and more clung to her eyelashes and welled in her eyes, which were already a deep red from all of the tears she had already shed. That was the only colour on her face, the rest was pale enough for her to be a corpse and there was a wildness in her features that matched his mom's desperation as she pleaded with his dad not to leave them.

"Please Noah," was all she said, her voice no more than a whisper and trembling with emotion. He almost caved then. Even what she was doing to herself had to be better than seeing her so distraught. But then he thought of what she had never allowed him to see. He imagined the scars, old and new,scattered across her body and needed no more convincing. He wasn't going to help her keep it a secret any more.

"You're staying here tonight Berry," he snapped, keeping his face and voice hard. It was the only way he could deal with her, the only way he wouldn't fall right into the trap of her tears and agree to whatever she asked of him. "I don't trust you on your own."

**Heatherbelles: You're probably sat there thinking 'well that was quick'. I just got an email to tell me you'd added me to alerts :)**

**Right, how on earth can Quinn expect to ever get Beth back? There are many things wrong with this. **

**1. She has legally handed over all rights. She is no longer recognised as Beth's family. At all. **

**2. I do psychology and last year one topic was attachment. The cricitcal period for a child to form an attachment to his or her primary caregiver is up to 6 months. Therefore, Beth will already have formed an attachment with Shelby. To take her away now would cause psychological damage and serious issues with Beth maintaining healthy and stable relationships in the future. **

**3. Quinn is single, 18, and has no income of her own. Shelby has a stable income, plenty of savings and a house of her own. **

**4. As much as Quinn wants Beth back, she has to think of the child. It was best for Beth to go to Shelby last year, now, it is even more critical because they already have a bond, and if Quinn were to get Beth back, she'd just scream for Shelby. **

**5. Quinn is a selfish cow and only cares about herself. I don't even like Shelby, but it's clear she loves and cares for Beth. Quinn needs to grow up and get over herself before she can even think about becoming a mother. **

**Sorry, just really really hate her. There are three Glee chracters whom I hate, Shelby, Jesse and Quinn. I can tolerate Shelby, I am even willing to put up with Jesse, but Quinn can just go die as far as I'm concerned. **

**If Quinn really cared about Beth, she'd realise this. She doesn't though, all she cares about is having something in her life. Last year, she didn't give a toss about her baby because she was too focused on getting her popularity back. That was the only reason she didn't keep her. She had a support system, money, a home, a willing baby daddy, but she chose her popularity. Now she doesn't have that anymore, she wants Beth back. I get she's her mother, she probably does geninely love her, but it's best for Beth now to stay with Shelby, with Quinn still in her life, but not as her primary caregiver. **

**Okay, another rant over. My author's notes keep ending up almost as long as the chapter, but I find this is a good place to rant, so long as I include actual story as well because this is fan fiction after all, not rants 'r' us.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Yet another trigger warning. **

The wave of dread hit as soon as Rachel opened her eyes in the morning to the grey, dismal winter light. That was unusual, even for her. It took at least a few moments for her to remember normally, and she practically lived for the glorious seconds first thing in the morning when nothing hurt. But she woke with the dead weight already settled inside her stomach and realised in an instant why it was there. Accompanying it was the gaping emptiness that should have cancelled the former out, but somehow, she could be hollow and hurt at the same time.

_Right, _Rachel told herself. _Just get out of bed. Nothing horrible or scary about just stepping out of the bed. _But even that was hard. She did not want to lie there feeling nothing but the aching emptiness, but getting out of bed required more energy than she had managed to obtain through the few hours sleep she had eventually managed. It wasn't helped by the thought that as soon as she moved, that was one step closer to facing the school who would all know by second period. And Kurt. _Oh God, Kurt. He was going to find out through a rumour. _

She rolled out of bed without focusing on her surroundings and did not realise anything was different until her feet hit a cool wooden floor rather than her plush carpet. Her head snapped up and she gazed around the room, momentarily thrown into a panic as her mind raced through tales of kidnap and hostages. She soon realised she was not in the house of a psychopath, but of Noah. If there was really that much distinction. Rachel could hear Puck's mom shouting up the stairs to his little sister. Apparently, she couldn't wear the Minnie Mouse dress because she had already worn it twice that week, and it was only Wednesday.

She had been surprisingly happy at allowing Rachel to stay over the previous night, so long as she slept in a different room to her son and they were in bed by eleven. Rachel knew she was holding out for the pair to rekindle the brief romance they had gone through the year before, but she also knew the woman's hopes were short lived. She had come to see Puck as more than a good friend, but in the way of an older brother. He was there for her when she needed someone, he protected her, but he wasn't boyfriend material. At least he used to protect her. Now he was willing to throw her to the pack of students who would strip her down to the last bone.

There was a small bag at the end of her bed, which Rachel quickly rummaged through to find the clothes she had selected from her house the night before. She had refused to speak to, or even look at Puck the entire time they were at her house, her annoyance only increased when he watched her pack to be sure she didn't bring anything with her she shouldn't. He'd searched her too, and she had panicked then, knowing he would find the sharpener blade in her dress pocket and the nail scissors in her shoe. He'd been thorough with her room too, selecting and removing anything she could use to hurt herself with.

He had not just left her. He'd sat down on the bed when she refused to move and tried to talk to her, about pointless things at first like who was fighting with who in Glee and whose pants Santana was getting in that week. Then he'd moved on to more serious things, like quizzing her on how the hell Karofsky had managed to find out in the first place, and verbally beating her up for not calling him when she had an urge like he'd told her to do. Rachel had not responded to any of it, and eventually Puck had given up and spent the rest of the evening deliberately trying to antagonise a reaction.

Rachel wanted so badly to do it. She needed it to give her the strength to face the day, but Puck would never understand and he would certainly never let her. He hated what she was doing to herself more than she did, and Rachel hated him for stopping her. He had promised to help her, and she had come to him last night pleading with him and he had turned her down. She wanted to scream at him that letting Karofsky tell the world was going to do the opposite of help, it was only going to send her spiralling further when the bullying increased and she no longer had her secret power to protect her. Without it, she may as well be dead.

But Puck was as stubborn as she was, and Rachel knew the way it was all planned out in his head. The rumours would get around to the rest of the Glee Club, and Mr Schue who would call her parents. Puck had never been one for snitching, but like he had said, if he allowed Karofsky to spill the beans, he wouldn't technically have to do anything.

There was a knock at her door just as Rachel was running a comb through her tangled curls and Puck walked in without waiting for her response. Immediately, Rachel felt anger surge through her. "You cannot just walk in here!" She cried, indignantly. "What if I had been in the process of changing?"

"But you weren't," Puck pointed out, unphased. Rachel glared at him.

"What do you want Puckerman," she said, angrily, wrenching the comb through a particularly tight knot and taking several strands of hair with it. He knew he was in the doghouse with her then. Rachel was the only person to get away with calling him Noah, which she usually used to her advantage as much as she could. If she called him by his full last name, it meant she was too upset with him for anything that was shared just between the who of them.

"I wanted to tell you that I don't care how much you hate me, I'm not leaving you alone today. Pee now because you're not going during the day. I'm taking you to your classes and meeting you right outside it on the bell if I can't go inside with you. I've got Mike, Artie and Sam watching you in the classes I'm not in and after school, you're coming either coming to Glee or I'm coming home with you. If anyone tries one thing with you, I'lltrash them."

Rachel turned to him with anger blazing in her eyes. She had never known Puck to be so interfering and so totally God damn _irritating! _She would not even be able to escape to the bathroom and take out the blade she had hidden there, the one thing she had been counting on to get her through the day. But at least she would avoid the taunts of the rest of the school. Noah might not be as feared as he once was, but he could still dish it out if provoked.

"Noah, please, if you want to help me, stop him from telling everyone," Rachel turned to face him for the first time since he had denied her the previous night. Puck averted his eyes away from her pleading ones. If he looked at her, he'd want to do what she was asking, because it was Berry, and he actually cared about her feelings. He'd talk about them with her, if that's what she really wanted, but he couldn't let her do _that _to herself anymore.

"I do want to help you, but to stop, not carry on. I should never have kept it a secret, but I don't snitch. It's too late anyway, we're late, he'll be there by now."

"What do you mean we're late?" cried Rachel, grabbing the clock off her bedside table to check it. It was 8.50. Puck rolled his eyes, trust Rachel to be completely distracted by the thought of being late for school. In his mind, the later the better. He'd be able to get her away from the hate of the students until class started and then what they could do to her was pretty limited.

Rachel flung the clock back onto the table and turned to Puck, opening her mouth to argue further, but before he could say a word, he raised his index finger in mid air. "Shhh," he hushed, and much to his surprise, she fell silent. It took Puck a few moments to think of what had made him do that, but then he remembered he had seen it on TV the night before, his little sister had been watching _Doctor Who, _or something equally nerdy. It was hard for him to believe they were related sometimes. Still, anything that had managed to shut up Rachel was nothing short of a miracle.

…

Twenty minutes later, Puck and Rachel walked into school just as the bell for first period rang. Puck was as good as his word and walked Rachel to her lesson before going to his own. First period was English, with Mike, and Noah definitely hadn't been lying about getting them to look after her. He didn't take his eyes away from her for the first fifteen minutes of the period. She could feel his eyes boring into her back so strongly that she wanted to throw something at him.

"Mike," she hissed as soon as she they were given an assignment. "There is absolutely no necessity to your constant stare. What is it you think is going to happen to me if you look towards the front of the classroom?" Mike flushed and turned away and Rachel felt an instant stab of guilt, despite having what she wanted. At least no one seemed to know yet.

Without thinking about it, Rachel shot her hand in the air and the class tittered. "Yes Rachel?" Said her teacher, staring at her from his desk. "Have you spotted a mistake with the assignment?"

"No, I just wondered if I may use the bathroom." For a moment, he looked as if he were going to say no, after all, they hadn't even been in the lesson for a half hour, but then he sighed and nodded, having been teaching long enough to know never to stop a girl from going to the bathroom. They would almost always start spouting girl troubles and that was a topic every male in the room wished to avoid.

Mike looked like he wanted to stop her too, but there was little he could do about it as she left her seat and hurried out of the door. As soon as she was out of the classroom, Rachel practically ran down the corridor with no plans to go back to class. She couldn't stand being confined in those walls with Mike's stare and the class' titters and sniggers. She had heard the two Cheerios that sat to the left of her muttering about her choice of clothes, and the hockey player on her other side not bothering to keep his voice down as he told the boy beside him that she'd look so much better if only she lost that 'puppy fat'.

Thirty seconds later, as she rounded the corner that led towards the girls' bathroom, Rachel wished she had stayed in the classroom. Karofsky was leaning casually against the lockers, as if he hung there everyday just waiting for her. She froze mid step. She couldn't move forward, but if she ran backwards, he would hear her. She thought about shouting for help, but he was several feet away from her. The only thing he was doing wrong was cutting class.

Before she could decide what to do, Karofsky turned around, his beady dark eyes fixed on her as his mouth inched up in a sneer. In four quick strides, he was right in front of her, but he didn't stop walking. He backed her against the wall and thrust out a hand to hold her in place. That was the part she should have screamed, but her voice seemed to have abandoned her. She couldn't even gasp as she stared into his leering face.

"Here's the deal hobbit," he said, murmured. "I won't spread your dirty little secret-" he pressed his other hand against her stomach, hard enough to make her eyes water in pain, "-if you do something for me in return." Rachel swallowed, hard. Why hadn't she stayed in the classroom.

"What do you want?" Her voice came out as a whisper and as much as she wanted to take her eyes off his face, they were drawn there, as if turning away would invite him to hurt her further.

"Well Bilbo, I've always wondered if you would have to bend down if you know what I mean." Rachel gasped and lashed out at him, shoving against his chest, but if anything, her shove just made him more determined. He trust his own hands forwards and Rachel cried out as his hand moved against her stomach.

Acting on instinct, Rachel lifted her knee hard and fast into his crotch and he let go of her immediately with a yell of agony. She watched him crumple in front of her, bent over double with pain and felt a stab of satisfaction. It was nothing on what he had caused her over the years, but it felt good all the same. But Rachel didn't have time to bask in her victory for long as seconds later, Karofsky looked up at her, his face contorted with fury.

She ran just as the bell signalling the end of the first period rang through the halls. It stopped after a few moments, but the sound seemed to echo in Rachel's head as students began to mill around the corridor, barely giving Rachel a second glance as she tore past them. Several times, she collided with a pissed off looking student and didn't even stammer out an apology before taking off again. That was until she banged into someone with such a force that she was thrown to the ground, the tears already pouring down her face.

**I've done this before. In a game of Bulldog. I don't even remember it, all I know is one moment I was hurtling towards someone and thinking 'I'd better move or I'm gonna bang into them' and the next second, I was lying on the floor with a totally different person next to me. Apparently, I flew into her as I fell. I don't remember this. I didn't even hit my head so I don't know what that's all about. **

**I know Karofsky's gay and everything, the stuff he's doing to Rachel is more about having power and control than he wants to do, as it almost always is with things like this. This story is set in season 2 by the way, and what is going on with Puck and Shelby? Just ew. Although it could create hilarious rewrites of 'Stacy's Mom'. **

**Please review :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Guess what? Another trigger warning. But this chapter won't be graphic. **

Rachel made no effort to get up. Her legs lay curled underneath her and one hand was flat on the floor, keeping her in a sitting position, but her head was bowed, her hair falling across her face to hide it from the stares she was beginning to attract. She did not look at who she had bumped into, she didn't even apologise. She just sat there, the tears pouring continuously down her face and drenching it until someone crouched beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Without meaning to, Rachel tensed.

"Come on," said a familiar voice. "You need to get up, Princess." Rachel didn't fight the arms that slipped around her waist and half lifted her to her feet. She stumbled along beside them as they led her along the crowded corridor, the eyes of half of the student body following them. Everyone was so transfixed on the way Rachel had just remained on the floor, crying too hard to notice a thing around her, that they didn't even comment when the two went into the girls' bathroom.

As soon as they were alone, Kurt sat her gently down on the low sinks and took a paper towel from the rack before wetting it under the hot tap, testing the temperature with his wrist first in the same way a mother would check her baby's bath water. Gently, he began to dab the tears away from her face in a way that wouldn't damage her skin, but more just followed them. Eventually Kurt gave up and sat down beside her and allowed her to cry into his shoulder, for once not caring about messing up his shirt.

For several minutes, Kurt did not ask the questions he desperately wanted to, he just let her cry for which Rachel was extremely grateful. She didn't want to answer anything, not yet. She was struggling to take it in herself, Karofsky's leering face still burned in her mind. She cried harder and buried her head into Kurt's neck, sobbing onto his shoulder. It was as if every pent up emotion was pouring out at once, she cried for all the times she wanted to tell him everything, but had stopped herself before she could, she cried for every cut, every insult, every knock down and she cried especially hard for every scar he was responsible for.

If Rachel was honest with herself, that was the one reason she held all along for not wanting Kurt to know. She didn't want to drag him down with her, she was ashamed and afraid, all of those were true, but none held her words back more than knowing more than one scarred onto her skin were Kurt's own. Of course, none had been his since the pair became friends, but everything he had said about her clothes, her hair, her general personality were etched onto her stomach. And then there was the neat row of cuts for what he had said to her when she pointed out the two of them had a lot in common, reaching out to him through compassion. _That's a terrible thing to say. _

But Kurt was gently beginning to tug her away from his shoulder as her cries eased off, and she knew she couldn't get away with it any longer. He had suspected something was wrong for a long time, she didn't need Finn to tell her that. Why else would he ask if she had done the 'fan' incident to herself? That was not most people's first through when their friend hurt themselves, and nine out of ten people would accept the explanation without question, but Kurt had questioned it, even after she had lied. And although their regular outings had something to do with their new found friendship, Rachel also suspected he was trying to cheer her up.

"Rachel, I'm going to ask you what's wrong and you are going to tell me. You're going to tell me now because I've avoided this for too long waiting for you to come to me. You're clearly not going to do that so I think I have every right to ask and actually receive an answer." Kurt glared at her with such a determined blaze in his eyes, that Rachel knew there was no arguing. He couldn't physically force her to tell him, but he'd come up with devious and creative ways until she felt it was no longer worth keeping it from him.

She chewed on her bottom lip and took a deep breath before settling her emotions to the pit of her stomach where they ached dully, but she could focus. She allowed her mind to become blank and just let her heart lead the conversation. She didn't think about what she was going to say, or plan what to tell and what to leave out. She just spoke.

"Karofsky knows something about me. Something no one else but Noah knows, and he promised not to tell. David, however, was not so kind. And-he-he threatened me. He said if I provided him with sexual favours, he wouldn't reveal to the rest of the student population what I had been doing." At the horrified expression she could feel had formed on Kurt's face without having to look at him, Rachel quickly reassured him. "I didn't oblige of course. I kicked him and ran, although I do not condone violence in any way...I was scared."

"And that was why..." Kurt's voice trailed away as he become lost in his own thought. What on earth could be so bad that Karofsky would actually see fit to try and force Rachel to do that, just so he wouldn't tell? What could be so bad that Rachel wouldn't tell him herself, period? He knew her, and if something upset her, the entire Glee Club was aware of it, along with the rest of the school. The man in the kebab shop probably knew about it.

"Rachel, I don't understand sweetie," he said, softly, reaching for her hand. She did not curl her fingers around his in return, but she didn't pull away either. "What does he know?" Rachel hesitated and Kurt squeezed her fingers, gently.

"He-he knows what I-that-I-my c-" Rachel swallowed and drew a deep, shuddering breath. She couldn't do this. The words were impossible to form, even without thinking. She could feel them pressing on her throat, but they wouldn't leave her mouth. She wanted so badly to tell him. She wanted him to understand and most of all, she wanted him to still love her.

But the words were too long silenced to come, so Rachel slid off the sink, breaking their clasped hands. She closed her eyes, unable to bear to see his expression, or her own face reflected in the mirror behind. With a trembling hand, she fumbled with the hem of her top and before she could think over it, before she could analyse the pros and cons and stop herself, she pulled it to her ribcage.

Kurt did not gasp. He did not shout. He did not scream. He didn't speak. He didn't even breathe. Rachel waited, her own breath lodged in her throat for his reaction, but one didn't come. He said nothing at all as she dropped the material, and she could only hope he hadn't had the time, or the composure, to read the scarred words. When she could stand the silence no longer, Rachel fled. Or she tried to, but before she could so much as reach the door, a hand shot out and seized her wrist, fingers wrapping tightly around her bones so she could not move.

Rachel swung around, although there was only one person it would be. There were tears swimming in Kurt's eyes, and several had already escaped down his cheeks. He was staring at Rachel with such a look of pain in his eyes, that she wished she had never shown him, because no amount of lessening her own pain was worth causing him that. She tugged her arm, trying to pull away from him so she could run and not have to look at the hurt that tore through his eyes anymore, but he yanked her back with more aggression than Rachel could ever remember him using.

"No. You're not going anywhere. We are. We're going to Mr Schue right now." Rachel gasped- the sound was strangled and horse as it caught in her throat with the rest of her breath. She shook her head, the only way her body would allow her to communicate and tugged her arm, uselessly.

"I'm not arguing about this Rachel!" snapped Kurt, much to her surprise. He hadn't spoken to her like that in a while. Not since they had become friends. But one look at his expression contradicted his angry tone, it was still so full of pain, and the guilt she had dreaded so much. She couldn't let him take her. Kurt knowing was one thing, and that was terrifying enough, but him, she could push out. How was she supposed to tell her teacher to leave her alone? She had opened her mouth and all at once, her world was spiralling out of the control she had fought so hard for.

Kurt was dragging her out of the bathroom, her cries and protests fell onto deaf ears as he held her wrist firmly and took her other arm too as soon as they were out of the bathroom. Rachel wasn't sure about her ability to fight him off, but as much as she didn't want him to lead her, she didn't want to hurt him in the process of escaping. So she just sobbed. She sobbed and begged as Kurt marched her through the halls, earning herself several stares. It was only when they stood outside Mr Schue's office that she began to struggle. She twisted her wrist out of his grip, shoving angrily at his chest to get him away from her.

Having not expected her sudden fight, Kurt stumbled backwards and his fingers lost their grip on her wrist. She turned away from his tear streaked face and ran, colliding headlong into Puck before she could even reach the end of the corridor. His own hand shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder before she could fall and he swung her around without a word, pushing her back towards Kurt and their teacher's office. It was there and then that Rachel decided all the forces of the universe were against her. What was he even doing there? Well, she knew _what _he was doing there, it was his school, but why did he just happen to walking down that hall at that moment?

"I followed you and Kurt," he explained, as if he could read her mind. Rachel lashed out at him with her foot, struggling to get away, but Puck held on fast, and Kurt rushed to help him. She had no chance at fighting the two of them, especially not half blinded by her tears. Why were they doing that to her? Why wouldn't they listen to her pleas? She gabbled away, promising to stop, to tell her dads herself so there was no need for anyone else to get involved. The tear stains on Kurt's cheeks grew, and something flashed behind Noah's eyes, but neither of them caved.

Rachel felt the anger burning inside her, a fury that she knew was not going to go away. In that moment, she _hated _her two friends. She hated that they had taken the only element of control she had left, she hated how they didn't care about what she wanted, what she _needed, _but only about themselves and how telling Mr Schue would take the weight off their shoulders. Because that was what it was all about really. They just didn't want the burden, they didn't want _her. _As soon as she'd been parcelled off to someone else like an unwanted package, they'd forget about her. Even Noah wouldn't be on the other end of the phone like he had promised.

Mr Schue glanced up as they burst into his office, his casual expression soon turned into one of shock and concern as he caught sight of Rachel and Kurt's tears, and Puck's hard, determined face. Rachel once again tried to back out of their grip, but they both tightened their hands and pushed her forwards. As soon as she was in front of Mr Schue's desk, Puck dropped her arm and left, because as much as he liked to pretend he didn't care, he hated to see Berry hurting, and her tear stained face wasn't something he wanted to look at any longer. Kurt stayed, knowing she had to have someone with her to stop her from falling apart completely.

"Guys, what's going on?" Mr Schue asked, his words speed up with panic, and he leapt up immediately from his seat, looking from Kurt to Rachel, as if they could tell him just with their eyes.

"Tell him Rachel," said Kurt, gently, his hand still locked around her wrist. He rubbed the front of it soothingly, but Rachel only cried harder, knowing there was nowhere for her to run. She couldn't tell him. She just couldn't. She hadn't even been able to tell Kurt, and she actually wanted him to know. Noah had found out by accident. So far, she'd never had to say the words, never verbally voiced what she had done to herself.

Rachel shook her head, and tried to pull her arm out of Kurt's grip again, but he continued to hold on, not to keep her there, but because he knew she needed a hand to hold. "Come on Princess, if you can't tell him, show him. You've already shown me, you can do this." He rested his free hand on the side of her face and wiped away her tears with his thumb, but more just followed. She couldn't seem to stop crying, and his own tears were showing no signs of stopping.

"Kurt, Rachel, what is it? Has someone hurt you?"

"Rachel," Kurt prompted. Mr Schue's gaze settled on her, noticing that she was trembling as well as crying. It was then that he knew there was something very wrong. It wasn't just Rachel being her usual over dramatic self. Not only was Kurt crying too and pleading with her, but she had actually left Glee. She hadn't come back like he thought she was going to do the very next day, she had stayed gone, and everyone had noticed her empty seat.

The girl stood in front of him was not Rachel, and she hadn't been for a while.

Mr Schue walked slowly to the other side of his desk, closer to Rachel and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He couldn't remember the last time he had really tried to talk to her, not even when he knew how much she was struggling after her break up with Finn. Not even to convince her to come back to Glee. "Rachel?" He said, gently. She was clearly terrified. "If someone's hurt you, you've got to tell me. I can help you, but it has to come from you."

Rachel nodded through her tears, and she pulled her wrist away from Kurt's grasp so she could settle her hand in his, holding onto it tightly. "I need you to say it Rachel, you've got to tell me." She squeezed her eyes shut and more tears spilled out of them. Just one word. That was all it was going to take, one word and it would be over. No, not over. It wouldn't even be close to being over, but it would be out of her control. She wouldn't have to be so careful, scared and alone all the time. She could share the weight, let someone else take over. But what if it didn't work that way?

When Rachel finally did speak, the others barely heard her, despite standing so close. But they did hear it, and it was the confirmation that Kurt needed, the one word that told him there was no going back from that day and set out a long, shaky and uncertain road ahead. One that he was determined to accompany her on. And when Mr Schue realised what he had said, it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking her, because it just didn't make any sense.

"Me."


	19. Chapter 19

**Trigger warning. But I'm assuming you all know that by now. Although, this chapter does get a little graphic in places. At the end, mainly. **

"It looks like the Easter Bunny's funeral in here," Rachel commented as she walked into Monica and Chandler's apartment to find Superman, an armadillo and Santa huddled together, the room lit by candle light. Hiram and Leroy Berry laughed out loud, despite having seen the same episode so many times before that they could recite it by heart. They were sat on the couch with their arms around one another, for once home before ten.

Rachel had actually been able to have dinner with them, but she hadn't been able to eat any of it. She was too distracted by preparing her speech in her head, too nervous about delivering it. How was she supposed to tell them what she had been doing to herself? She couldn't do it, she physically couldn't. They would not pick up on subtle hints, and Rachel would rather die than show them what she had done. She couldn't stand there and face them as the words came out of her mouth and watch their faces break.

So she had retreated to room as soon as dinner was over and ignored their questions about what was wrong. Rachel had kept herself busy as long as possible. She had done not only her homework for the next day, but for all of the next week. She had cleaned out her room, including her wardrobe and had three bin sacks full of things to throw out. She had even got around to beginning to plan a set list for Regionals, only to remember she was no longer in Glee Club.

It was almost midnight when Rachel realised she had nothing else to do and finally ventured downstairs to find her dads, who were busy watching an old _Friends _DVD, and didn't seem to notice the time. They didn't even look surprised when Rachel curled up beside them to watch, using the television as an excuse to be silent while she tried to pluck up the courage to tell them. If she didn't, Miss Pillsbury would. She had been told her parents would have to be informed, but had been given one night for a chance to do it herself. Even Rachel agreed that it would be better coming from her.

In typical Rachel Berry fashion, she had tried to argue with her guidance counsellor, but Miss Pillsbury had prattled on about 'receiving the best help possible' and 'extra support'. She was convinced telling Hiram and Leroy was the answer. Rachel did not agree. She could not see, to any extent, how telling her dads would help, but the look on Kurt's face when she had finally allowed herself to meet his eyes after showing him what she had done to herself was enough convince her to at least try. For him, if not herself, even though she was mad at him.

She was mad at Miss Pillsbury too, even though all she was trying to do was her job. She did not make the rules, Rachel knew that, but it didn't stop her being irrationally angry with the woman. What did she know about what would help? For all she knew, Rachel had a terrible relationship with her fathers, and telling them would do more harm than good. She was furious that someone could believe in such a magical fix it cure. But Rachel hadn't said any of that, not when it mattered. She'd just gone quiet and nodded along when she realised she was not going to win the argument, for once lost for words. She'd never felt more powerless than she had done then as she was told what was going to happen in her life next.

Perhaps she could tell her dads she had done it, but it had been a one off. Maybe she could tell them nothing, and pretend that she had? But she knew before that plan had even began to properly form that it was no use. Kurt had told Mr Schue and Miss Pillsbury everything, she'd even been forced to show them. They didn't know about her legs, but she'd had to tell them it had been going on for months, since before her break up with Finn. There was no going back in her relationship with him now. He was going to want nothing more to do with her when he found out.

The television screen went black suddenly, and Rachel blinked, coming out of her trance at last to realise her father, Hiram, had switched it off with the remote and both of her dads were now staring at her, their expressions mixtures of concern and curiosity. Had they been talking to her? It was only with the silence that Rachel realised how much of a comfort the background noise had been, it was a diversion of attention, for both her and her fathers, and something to fill the gaping void of quiet that filled the room now.

Before anyone could fill it with words, the doorbell rang, sounding one thousand times louder both through the silence and foreboding. It was the middle of the night, whoever it was wasn't there for a social call. Immediately, Rachel jumped up to answer it, paranoid thoughts creeping into her mind that it might be someone there to hurt her dads. It wouldn't be the first time they had faced homophobic attacks, and Rachel was used to coming home to find their house egged, or being called after in the street.

Hiram and Leroy were fast behind her as Rachel darted for the door, one reaching out hand to stop her as if afraid of the same thing she was, but she grabbed the handle and flung it open before either of them could stop her, realising too late that she should have at least armed herself. But to both her relief and dread, it was not the barrel of a gun she found herself staring at, or even a gang of teenagers, but her mother.

Shelby peered over Rachel's shoulder, glaring at her dads with such intensity that Rachel shrunk back, afraid of her anger. Was she really so mad that Rachel came to her house? Was she that desperate to have her out of her life? She felt the tears prick at the back of her eyes, but blinked them away quickly. She wasn't going to cry, not again. Enough people had seen that weakness for one day.

"I see you're in at last," said Shelby, coldly. Hiram and Leroy did nothing but stare at her with blank expressions on their faces. Rachel couldn't blame them, she had told them nothing of going to see her mother again, of the visit Shelby had paid her while they were out, she hadn't even told them how things had panned out between them the previous year, just that the two had made a mutual decision to go their separate ways.

Both her dads' gazes fell onto Rachel, searching her out for answers, but she couldn't even bring herself to look at them. Without a word, she turned away from her mother and headed towards the stairs, but her foot was barely on the first step before Leroy called her back.

"Rachel! Come back here and tell us what on earth is going on!" She stopped and took a few seconds to compose herself. She had to appear composed, even if inside she was screaming because she couldn't stand this right now. Too much had spiralled out of control and fallen apart that day without adding another rejection to the list. It was ironic how her mother was there to tell Rachel to leave her alone, when all she wanted was the exact same thing. Shelby would never have to see her again if only _she _would leave Rachel alone.

"I have as little idea as you do," Rachel lied, turning back to face her father's angry expression. He was obviously no happier about her mother's visit than she was.

"Then you'll be just as curious as we are," Leroy retorted. "Now if you'll kindly join us in the lounge, we clearly have things to discuss."

Rachel opened her mouth to argue that it was the middle of the night, and she needed to go to bed right then if she were to get the appropriate amount of sleep needed to function adequately during the next school day, but Shelby interrupted her before she had even started.

"Actually, I would rather speak to the two of you alone. Rachel can join us in a moment," she said, so coldly that Rachel almost expected icicles to form on her lips. Her insides burned with curiosity at what could have made her mother so mad with her dads. Was she this angry that they couldn't keep their daughter under control and away from her life? Did she really object to her occasional presence in her life that much?

But before anyone could argue further, Rachel dashed upstairs to her room and shut the door firmly behind her. She may be curious, but she was equally sure that whatever it was that Shelby wanted to speak to her dads about so badly wasn't something she wanted to hear. As tired as she was though, Rachel knew she would never sleep. She was too worried about what was going on downstairs, her mind too alive with the events of the day.

There were murmured voices travelling through the floor from downstairs, and Rachel quickly plucked her i-pod from her bedside table and turned the volume up so she didn't have to hear anything. She couldn't make out what was being said, even without the music, but she didn't want to take that chance. Moments later, she was extremely grateful for her decision as she heard the very obvious sound of raised voices. But to her surprise, it wasn't her mother's shout she head, but her dads'. Both of them. The music grew louder, but now she knew they were there, there was no blocking out the voices. She may not have been able to physically hear them, but she could guess what had been said, and the pain tore through her just the same as if she could hear each word.

If the music couldn't stop the pain, there was one thing that could. But would it still work? It wasn't a secret anymore, it wasn't private, it wasn't _hers. _It felt contaminated now, even the thought was different. It wasn't her own special power, it was something dirty and disgusting that everyone knew about. A shame she couldn't shake off. But she had to try. It was the only thing that worked, the only thing that made her feel whole and alive.

Never before had Rachel felt so afraid as she opened the doors to her wardrobe, the music still blasting in her ears. She pushed aside the small pile of clothing that her box was hidden behind and pulled it out, but she did not feel the immediate sense of calm that usually came with having her blades in her hands. In fact, the nerves and fear just tightened in her stomach, growing worse with each second the feeling didn't come. Then there was the shame.

The feeling only grew worse when Rachel pushed up her dress to reveal her legs. She saw what she had done to herself, the patterns the cut had made, the scars she would have on her body forever and all at once, she couldn't stand the sight of them. She wanted to hide them away until they were gone, she wanted her skin back as it had been, clean and without the words. They were scarred forever on her skin, labels she would never shake. What had once been something so relieving and powerful had become something shameful.

Rachel wanted to scream. She wanted to tear her room apart, to trash _something _that wasn't herself, because she knew without trying that it wasn't going to work anymore, at least not for a while. The magic had gone, it wasn't a secret and out of the world of illusion she had fallen into, Rachel could see the clear truth of what she had been doing to herself. But it wasn't a feeling of relief. She felt as if her only friend, her only power against all that she struggled with every day was gone. There was nothing now, not even singing had the same effect as her blades.

In a desperate attempt to feel _something, _Rachel pressed the blade hard into her skin, but rather than feeling the rush of power and release, she only felt shame. She felt as if the eyes of her mother, her fathers, the glee club, Miss Pillsbury and the entire student body were on her, even though she was alone in her room. They were watching her and judging her. She let out a dry sob and cut again, praying for some kind of release, but the shame only increased, the eyes burning deeper into her.

The sound of _Poker Face _blared into her ears, sounding like nothing but noise amongst her panic. Rachel wrenched the ear phones from her ears, and tossed her i-pod away from her. She could still hear the music faintly from the floor, but it was no longer so deafening, like the taunts of others were screaming in her head rather than the sound of her favourite tunes. And there was another sound. Raised voices right outside her bedroom door, and then it burst open and Leroy burst into the room, his face contorted with anger and was quickly followed by her mother.

Rachel was still holding the blood soaked ice skate blade, her skirt hitched so the scars blazed, visible on her skin.

…

**A doof doof moment. Finn's reaction will come at some point in the next few chapters, I know some people are awaiting it. I was really pleased by the amount of reviews for the last chapter, I woke up to Quinn's annoying voice (I really need to change my alarm settings), but cheered up when I saw the amount of emails in the corner of my screen :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Trigger warning. We're nearing the end here :'( I like writing this. I shall miss it. But on the bright side, I can get on with the next part of 'Fade Away'. **

**I really love getting all of your reviews :)**

The silence could not have gone on for any longer than a few seconds really, but to Rachel, it felt like a lifetime. Her mind blanked at the same time as her body froze, and she could not think of a single word to say that could make any of it any better. There was no cover up to this, no talking her way out of it and putting her show face on. They were real and they were there, standing right in front of her and staring as if she had disembowelled a kitten. Her mother and father.

One of them anyway. Where was the other? Perhaps he had stayed downstairs to get away from all the yelling and storming. It sounded like something he would do. Hiram Berry had never been one for confrontation, it had always been Leroy to discipline and punish Rachel in the past. Hiram had always preferred to stay well out, because he knew as soon as he took on look at Rachel's pleading face, he'd relent. At least it hadn't been him to walk in on her. Both her dads loved her equally, but Hiram was far softer than Leroy. He was the one who cried at _Titanic, _and on Rachel's first day of school. She couldn't even imagine his face it it had been him.

There was a dark brown stain on the carpet. Rachel had never noticed it before. It was about four inches from her bed, a small patch. Just a droplet of some substance. With a lurch of her stomach, Rachel realised it was blood. Her blood. Then her mind was swung painfully back to reality. The reality in which she was sat with a blood drenched blade and her scars on show with her mother and father's eyes burning into her.

Rachel's hand began to shake and she quickly dropped her tool so they wouldn't notice. Not that there was anything that could make the situation worse. She felt sick, and didn't so much as dare herself to look at her parents. She began to wish _someone _would say _something, _because her mind was coming up blank and she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"What the _hell _is all this?" Her dad whispered at last, but it was no a soft whisper. It was harsh and furious and Rachel knew the time bomb she had made from the moment she first cut was just moments away from exploding, tearing apart everything that lay within its reach. She had never longed for her ability to talk her way out of anything more, but that time, there were no words. There was no explanation other than the truth.

The stain Rachel was focused on seemed to grow darker, burning on the carpet like a fire scorching right through the floor. She quickly averted her eyes, casting them instead onto her scars. Looking at them always calmed her, but along with the rest of the effects of cutting, it seemed to have flown away along with the secret. Now looking just made her feel sick. Her stomach gave such a violent lurch at the sight of one of the scars, that for a moment she feared she actually would throw up. _Mommy's girl. _

Quickly, Rachel pulled down the hem of her skirt, as if covering the scars would erase the images from the minds of those who had seen them. She didn't see her father fly at her, but she felt it when he seized her by the arms and began to shake her so hard her head snapped backwards. "I asked you a question! What do you think you're doing, you stupid-" he didn't finish the sentence, and Rachel had no desire to hear the end of it. She wished he would let go of her, his fingers were digging painfully into her flesh.

"Do you know what your _mother,"_ he spat the word as if it were blasphemous, "came here to say? She thought _we _were hurting you, but it seems you've been doing a pretty fine job of that yourself." He shook her again and Rachel gasped, beginning to struggle in his grasp.

"Let go of her!" Shelby's voice came from the blue. Rachel had almost forgotten she was there. "You're hurting her now!"

"This has nothing to do with you," Leroy snared, turning on her. Rachel was sure he didn't realise how hard his grip was. He wasn't a violent man, although the tougher of her two dads, he had never once raised a hand to her, he rarely even raised his voice, but she couldn't push out the rising feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach. The man holding her wasn't the father she had grown up with, and a part of her was afraid of what he could turn into.

"As much as I agree that this situation is nothing that concerns Shelby, I must agree with her in that you are hurting me. Contrary to popular belief, that is not what I desire. Now I would appreciate it if you would loosen your grip." Rachel's voice finally returned to her, welcoming the distraction from what had been seen. Leroy glared at her, but his fingers slacked and he lifted her from the bed into a standing position, not as roughly as he had previously been handling her.

Rachel stumbled slightly as Leroy half lead, half dragged her from her bedroom and down the stairs, Shelby following close behind them. Rachel looked calmly ahead, show face back in place. She loved words. Just speaking them, saying whole sentences when a couple of words would do told the world 'I'm okay'. They made her seem sure of herself, confident. She was harder to knock down when she was as strong and confident as that, and no one ever looked past them to the tiny, quiet girl who longed to whisper.

But whispering was hard to come by when one father had a hold of her arm and was raging at her other dad while her mother stood stunned behind them, and Rachel took the role of the silent statue that was often so much easier than using words, no matter how much she loved them. She just wished the part didn't have to come when her soft, kind father found out what she had been doing to herself. Having Leroy know was bad enough, but he was tough and Rachel knew he could deal with it. Hiram, on the other hand, had always had the gentle side that had been both a curse and a gift. He was looking at her now as if she'd taken away his puppy.

"Sweetie, is this true?" He asked in a whisper, but it was nothing like the whisper of his husband. It was a disbelieving, broken whisper and Rachel could hear the plea in his voice for her to say no, even if it was one sick prank to pull because that was one million times better than it being the truth. But Rachel could only look at him, sadly and whisper in return.

"I'm so sorry daddy."

"Sorry?" Leroy exploded. "You should have thought about being sorry before you slashed yourself up!" Rachel flinched at his choice of wording, and she could tell by the quiet hiss from behind her and Hiram's paled face that she wasn't the only one the phrasing had an effect on. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel wondered what her mother was still doing there. Why had she not left as soon as she found out what a freak her daughter really was?

"Why would you do that to yourself baby?" Rachel winced again. She almost wished he would be as harsh and angry as her other father was. Anger, she could deal with. She was used to people's anger, she was used to being shouted at, brought down, rejected, pushed and hated. She wasn't used to his kindness, the soft, broken tone of his voice and the way he still called her 'baby', even after what she had done. But she couldn't explain it to him. She couldn't explain it to anyone. There was no logical reason for doing what she did. Not only would the scars hold back her Broadway career, but it was an _awful _thing for someone to do to themselves. Rachel knew why she did it, but she couldn't voice the reasons aloud. Not to anyone. So she simply shrugged, much to Leroy's fury.

"You don't know?" He fumed. If they were in a musical, it would have been the part he burst into a very loud and angry song before storming from the stage, or swearing to devote his life to revenge. "So you just woke up one morning and decided this was how you were going to spend your time? Thought it might get you a bit of extra attention did you?"

Rachel's head snapped up, fury blazing behind her eyes. "No I didn't! If for one second this had _anything _do to with wanting attention would I really have hidden it for so long? It is the exact opposite of wanting attention! I do this because keep all the words I long to voice inside me, I don't want anyone to see me as anything other than the confident self assured girl I have painted myself out to be. I hurt myself so I have one victory over anyone else who tries. Don't you dare tell me this is for attention when the last thing I wanted was for anyone to ever know!"

Something flashed behind her father's eyes and for a moment, Rachel feared her would actually hit her, but then he shot her a disgusted look and turned away, as if he couldn't even bear to see her anymore and stormed out of the room, right out of the house. Rachel heard the door slam, and then there was a silence, one just as deafening as it had been in her bedroom.

Seconds later, Hiram pushed himself up from the couch and stood in front of Rachel, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then he simply looked at her sadly and left too, wondering slowly into the kitchen and shutting the door with a small click behind him. Both exists wee so different, yet meant such similar things. Neither of her fathers were going to be there for her. One was too angry, and the other too sad. More people had glimpsed her private world than she ever thought possible, but Rachel had never felt so alone.

Defeated, she sunk onto the sofa, leant back and closed her eyes. She was so tired, falling asleep and forgetting the day seemed like the most appealing idea in the world. Rachel had completely forgotten about Shelby until she felt someone's hand on the side of her head, brushing away her hair from where it had fallen across her face. Her eyes snapped open and she drew away from the touch as if her mother's hand had been dipped in poison.

Shelby allowed her hand to fall back to her side and gazed down at her daughter, as if trying to find something in her she had been missing for a long time. Rachel sighed softly and drew her knees up to her chest, tucking them under her chin as she rested her head on the arm of the couch. There were so many things they both wanted to say, so much that needed saying, but Rachel was too exhausted and Shelby just didn't know where to begin.

"Why are you here?" Said Rachel at last, if only to break the silence. As tired as she was, sleep was a stranger to her, and she was growing sick of the quiet. She felt like she was constantly speaking, but forever silent at the same time, and the effort of living two parallels was exhausting.

"Hi-your dad told you. I thought something was going on, Rachel." Something. Well, 'something' certainly had been going on. It just wasn't even close to what Shelby had in mind. Somehow, the real explanation seemed even worse than the scenario she had dreamed up. Rachel was quiet for a while, as if the news meant nothing to her, but then, quietly, she responded.

"I know that Shelby, but _why _are you here? What exactly were you planning to do if your assumptions proved correct? Why did you not just dismiss the situation as nothing that concerned you and stay well out?"

The questions poured out of her mouth like another personality that she couldn't control, and she had little energy to try. They were not the questions she really wanted answers to, but they had the potential to lead to the answers she needed to hear. Shelby was staring at her curiously, as if she couldn't understand what she was saying, or the answer should be obvious, but Rachel was completely at sea. She could not understand what it was that had driven her mother to be there in the middle of the night on a hunch, and still be there even when that hunch had been disproved.

"I couldn't just leave you," said Shelby, simply, as if that one sentence held all the answers Rachel would ever need.

"Why?" Snapped Rachel, harshly. "You've had plenty of practice, one more time should not have proved difficult. I did not plan on bothering you again." Shelby stared at her daughter, as if first realising how alike they really were. Will had told her Rachel wasn't hard like her, but there she was in what must obviously be a very emotional and vulnerable state considering the circumstances, yet she was speaking in that way she did by using the longest possible way to say something. No one spoke like that when they were distraught. They screamed and shouted and altogether made very little sense. Rachel was calm and composed. At least much more so than she should be.

"Rachel," Shelby began, taking a seat beside her daughter. She paused, considering her next words and Rachel took that time to push her own emotions in line before they got the better of her. "I left you last year because I thought you didn't need me. If my suspicions had proved to be true, and you'd needed me after all, I would have taken you in a heartbeat."

Rachel didn't allow herself to believe her, not even for a second. People claimed to care all the time, but very few of them really did. As soon as things began to get even the slightest bit rocky, Finn had flung her aside without even asking for her version of events. Kurt was her friend now, but things had not always been so relaxed between them, and no matter how many compliments he gave her now, she couldn't forget the criticism she'd faced at his hands. As for the rest of her 'friends', they hadn't even noticed a change.

"How long would it have been for this time? Perhaps an entire week would have passed before you saw I wasn't good enough once again." Rachel sighed. She didn't want to go through this again. They'd been there before, and she didn't have the energy to argue again. She was just exhausted in so many ways. It felt as if there was nothing left of her, like she had used everything up just by going through day to day life.

"It was never about you not being good enough. It was me who didn't fit into your life, I-"

"Will you just stop with that?" Rachel snapped, surprising even herself. She'd only meant to think the words in her head, but now she had started, there was no going back. "You said that and I believed you. But then I came to you again, I made it clear that I did need you, I believe I used the words 'only you' and you still rejected me. You wanted your perfect life with your perfect new baby that I could never fit into so stop playing the 'it's not you it's me' card, because it so clearly _is _me."

Shelby was silent. She could think of nothing to contradict her daughter's words, although she desperately wanted to. Rachel was wrong, so wrong, but she could not explain how, because as wrong as it sounded from her lips, everything her daughter had said was true. She had made it clear that day that she did need her mother. She hadn't even demanded a relationship, she'd asked for a co director, tried to ease her in gently. But it hadn't been Rachel Shelby had meant to reject that day, it was the offer of directing yet another glee club. She had rejected her through. She'd never offered her daughter a slot in the grand new life she had planned.

"Was that what _that _was in aid of?"

Her mother didn't have to specify what she was talking about for Rachel to know. She had been expecting it to come up since they were left alone together, but that didn't mean she was ready to discuss it. "_That_ was in aid of your total denial of my existence," she said, shortly, making it clear the topic was not up for discussion, but Shelby persisted anyway.

"I don't understand." From Rachel's tone, it was clear she was talking about something specific, but for the life of her Shelby could not think what it was. They had barely seen each other since Regionals the previous year. In eight short words, Rachel cleared the mystery.

"You told the waitress you only had one." Of course. What other incident could she have ever been talking about? Shelby had seen Rachel in the café that day, or more, she had seen her bolt from it. She'd guessed the reason for it too, but she never would have contemplated that it would have upset her that much. If she had allowed herself to think about what happened next, she would have seen the boy she was with run after her and cheer her up with a speech about how Shelby wasn't worth it, and because he was in her glee club with her, a song.

Without another word, Rachel leant her head against the arm of the chair and closed her eyes once again. She was tired, so tired and she just wanted to sleep. The thought of getting up for school in less than five hours to face a student body who knew her darkest secret filled her with such a weight of dread that she wanted to be asleep, if only to get away from it. And her mother. The conversation had taken a quick turn down a road she had neither the mental or physical energy to go down, and she just wanted to close her eyes so the woman would be gone when she opened them again in the morning.

After a long stretch of silence, Rachel heard Shelby call her name, quietly, like she was scared of breaking her with volume, but she didn't respond. Even speaking seemed like too much effort to consider. She was hanging on the fringes of well welcomed sleep, and wasn't going to let anyone drag her away from it. Minutes, or perhaps seconds or hours later, Rachel felt a blanket being draped over her body and she was just about awake enough to wrap the edges tightly around her body, cocooning her in its warm embrace as she fell into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

**Happy Halloween. I'm not big on Halloween, I had a horror movie marathon with my friend at the weekend, and then we went on a ghost tour/hunt (an actual one), but that's about as far as I'm gonna go with the festives. And that wasn't even in aid of Halloween, we just happened to be going on the ghost tour this weekend so thought we'd watch horror movies to get in the mood. But I do love Christmas on the other hand and am already shopping and singing :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Trigger warning. This was meant to be 20 chapters long, but then it went over and was 21, so now I have to make it longer to reach 25 chapters or the total number of chapters will not add up to a multiple of 5, and that will just annoy me. **

A loud bang rung through Rachel's muddled head, and she groaned groggily, as the sound forced her awake. She heard someone hiss _be quiet. _A woman's voice. Now that was odd. As far as she knew, she was the only female who lived there, and she was asleep. Or at least, she was trying to be, but the continued voices were making it impossible. Was that _shouting? _Who on earth was making such a noise at that time of the night? Or was it night? Perhaps she had been asleep hours and it was time to get up. And who was that _woman? _

With another faint, sleep addled moan, Rachel slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was it was still dark, but that didn't mean it wasn't time to get up. With the snow that covered the town it looked that way every morning, even when she over slept yet again and only just woke in time to thrown on some clothes and run a brush through her hair. The second thing she noticed, was she was not in her room. It was her house, but not her room. From what she could see, Rachel guessed she was in the lounge. The third thing she noticed was that she definitely had not been dreaming up the woman's voice.

Confused, Rachel pushed herself into a sitting position with a yawn, wishing she could just go back to sleep, but curiosity got the better of her. Opening her eyes had not solved anything, it had only added yet more questions to her sleep filled brain. For one, why was she not in her room? But then the events of the previous night slammed into her with the force of Karofsky's shove and she ran her hand through her hair, pressing her palm to her temple. Her mother was there. She knew. So did her dads. Neither of them wanted anything to do with her.

Rachel squinted, peering through the dusty grey light to the clock at the other side of the room. Almost five. She was exhausted, but the thought of sleep seemed impossible, now she was awake, her mind was alive with dread and fear. Fear of how her parents were going to handle her, dread for the day of school ahead, fear of what Finn was going to say, dread for going through another day. She wished she could go up to her room and stay there, never having to face the world again, but the sound of raised voices from the kitchen was enough to keep her firmly in her dreaded reality.

She threw the blanket from her lap that had been placed there last night and stood up, swaying slightly as she did so. Her head still felt fuzzy with sleep and she longed to fall back on the couch and sleep the day away, but the empty feeling had began to creep into the pit of her stomach and she knew the only way to rid herself of the hollow ache that came with it was to get up and do _something, _because any feeling was better than the dreadful chasm that lived inside her.

Nerves rolled inside Rachel's stomach as she walked towards the kitchen and the sound of what promised to be a heated argument. She didn't want to get caught in the middle of it, but she was sure it was the sort of argument that would stop as soon as she walked into the room. It seemed her father was home, and by the sounds of it, he had been drinking.

"This has nothing to do with you," he snapped at Shelby, his voice growing louder with each word. "You haven't been in her life for the past seventeen years!"

"Only because of the contract that you made me sign! _I'm_ the one who's been here all night to make sure she didn't take it a step further, while you were out drinking hell knows what into the small hours!"

Rachel rolled her eyes and rounded the corner leading to the kitchen. Shelby wasn't going to be the only one to immediately make that assumption. Kurt had not said anything, but she had seen the questions flashing behind his eyes, the worry that she would one day fail to show up at school and Miss Pillsbury had asked her directly if she had been having any suicidal thoughts. She had told her she hadn't, and it wasn't a lie, not really. She didn't want to die, Rachel knew that. There was just sometimes one moment or an entire evening when the thoughts would cross her mind, and refuse to go away. She would wonder _how_ she would do it if it ever came to that point, but she'd never seriously considered actually going through with her plan. It had just been a comfort, something to get her through the endless nights.

"As much as the concern behind the gesture is appreciated, I can assure you a repeated episode of such shifts will not be necessary," said Rachel, breezing into the kitchen with much more confidence than she had, but that was nothing new to her. She had been acting since she had started school, it was a second nature to her. She opened the cupboard and took out a glass and filled it with water from the top before taking a sip. "I have no thoughts of suicide," she assured her mother, with no hint of aggression.

Leroy's eyes were fixed on her, and Rachel could feel his glare without even looking. "Really? Because you seem to be making a good attempt." She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Why could no one understand that the point of her hurting herself was so she _didn't _have to take her life? It was far from a suicide attempt, but she was never going to get anyone to understand that.

"I am not going to stand here and argue my mental state with you. All you need to know is that it was never my intent to take my life, and I plan for things to remain that way. Now if you will excuse me, I need to start my exercise regime."

…

One and a half hours later, Rachel had actually done her routine for the first time in weeks, showered and changed into something that wasn't yesterday's dress. Because she still had time, she switched on her replaced curling irons to style her hair, because the alternative was going back downstairs to her father who was sure to pick a fight and mother who must have been more ashamed of her than she had already been.

Just as she began, there was a light knock at her door, and reluctantly, Rachel called for the person to come in. She didn't want to speak to anybody, but she had been raised to be polite, whatever the situation, and even though she often expressed herself in a way that could be seen as rude to some people, she was never intentionally impolite. Her heart sank when it was Shelby who entered. She had hoped that maybe Kurt was there to walk to school with her. Didn't she ever leave?

"Do you not have a home to go to?" She asked, not rudely. "Where's Beth?" Her mother's eyes widened slightly in surprise, before she remembered Rachel had been in the café. Of course she knew she had adopted Beth.

"She's with a babysitter," Shelby explained. "She was more than happy to work all night. I warned her I might be gone a while and phoned again to update her once you had fallen asleep." Shelby walked further into the room, and Rachel turned back to the mirror and continued to curl her hair.

"Ba-Rachel." Shelby paused, like she was struggling with her words and Rachel concentrated hard on her reflection so she didn't have to think about the unfolding conversation. She didn't like the tone her mother's voice had taken. She sounded sincere, afraid even and Rachel had never seen that side to her before. "I need you to swear to me you won't-" She didn't finish the sentence, there was no need. Rachel gripped the handle of the irons so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn't want to make a promise she could not know for sure in her heart that she would always keep.

"Well that's just ridiculous, what about in the event that I am out of town, perhaps in New York pursuing my Broadway career and a bomb wipes out the whole of Lima, killing all my family and friends and leaving me without anyone in the world, and at the same time I am told without a doubt that my dreams are impossible due to my deviated septum."

"Rachel," Shelby warned whilst fighting back a smile. Her daughter had her argumentative streak, that was for sure. Rachel sighed dramatically, like a teenager being told she wasn't allowed out past midnight and finally turned to look at her mother, the irons still in her hand. "I-I promise," she stammered, her mind instantly picking apart her own words for a loophole. Shelby simply nodded.

"Thank-you,'" she said, as if Rachel had passed her the salad and an awkward silence fell between them, one of the first they had in a long while. The previous night, Rachel had been too distracted by thoughts of her dads and everything that was going on around her to care about pauses in the conversation. As a distraction, she went back to the task of curling her hair. A quick glance at the clock told her it wasn't even seven. Perhaps she'd stop at a nearby café for breakfast and text Kurt to tell him to meet her there. She was going to need somebody to walk into school with.

The sound of _Funny Girl _burst suddenly around the room as her phone shot to life, and Rachel jumped, the curling iron slipping from her grasp. Without thinking, she lunged for it, seizing it by the burning metal. She gasped and dropped it again instantly. Eyes watering with pain, Rachel bent down and picked up the iron, that time by the handle and put it safely on her heat resistant mat before sweeping into the bathroom to tend to her burning hand.

She held it under the running tap, relief washing through her as the ice water numbed her to the pain. Then Shelby was staring back at her through the mirror and Rachel gasped in shock for the third time in under a minute. Wordlessly, her mother held out her phone. She had a missed call from Kurt. Rachel took it with a grateful smile and pressed the call button while her screen still flashed with his name. Shelby was still watching her through the mirror, and she was relieved when Kurt picked up on the first ring, giving her a welcome distraction from the unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Sorry, curling iron incident. What was the reason for your call?" Rachel spoke coolly, still angry with him for revealing her secret to what may as well be the entire student body.

"I called to warn you in advance about everyone else," Kurt chirped, not seeming to notice her tone.

Before Rachel could ask him what he was talking about, he hung up. Frowning in confusion, she pocketed her phone and immediately felt the agitation attack her once again at the sight of her mother's face in the mirror. Rachel didn't like the way she was looking at her, it was the same look she wore herself when Noah swore, of Finn refused to defend her. It was a look of disappointment and disapproval. And she had actually started to think that maybe Shelby was a little bit on her side, even if she wasn't going to stick around to fight with her.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Shelby asked, bluntly, her stare hardening. Rachel's own expression turned stony in response and she glared at the glass so intensely she half expected it to crack. Her mother glared back at her, just as furiously.

"If I was going to hurt myself, I would have not done so in your presence. I would also have used an alternative method as this is insufficient. It just plain hurts." Rachel drew her hand from under the stream of water to inspect it. There were several streaks of red across her fingers and palm and as soon as it was out of the cold relief, it began to burn painfully.

"Is that not the point?" Without warning, tears began to slide down Rachel's cheeks, she had not even felt them threatening. Quickly, she bent her head over the sink so Shelby wouldn't see them, but she guessed anyway by the way her daughter suddenly bowed her head and refused to look up, even when she felt Shelby's presence directly behind her. She continued to hold her hand under the tap, focusing on it as if it were a task of utmost importance.

Rachel gritted her teeth and refused to let any more tears fall. Not only did she have to go to school in an hour, but the person she most wanted to appear strong in front of was stood right behind her. The previous night made it even more vital that she did not show weakness. Rachel felt a hand on her arm and quickly shrugged it off and backed away from the sink, despite the burning pain that instantly shot through her hand as soon as she did. Wordlessly, she swept from the bathroom, leaving the tap running behind her and dashed right out of her bedroom.

Shelby caught up with her as she was rooting through the medicine cupboard. She quickly found the burn bandage she was looking for opened the plastic carefully without putting too much strain on her injured hand. Another look informed her it was beginning to blister. She fumbled with it for several moments, but trying to wrap it one handed was useless, the end just would not stay and getting it tight enough was impossible.

Another hand took hers, being careful to avoid the burns. "You're going to need something on this," said Shelby, quietly. She turned to the cupboard Rachel had just been going through until she came across some cream for stings and burns. Rachel took it from her, silently, and rubbed some gently into the marks across her palm and fingers. She didn't resist as Shelby picked up the discarded bandage and wrapped it around her daughter's palm, carefully, yet tightly. There was nothing that could be done about the burns on her fingers, but Rachel pocketed the cream.

Before either of them could speak another word, Hiram Berry stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Shelby, but he didn't comment, instead, his gaze travelled down to Rachel's bandaged palm. His expression creased in agony as he imagined just what had happened to his daughter.

"It was an accident," Shelby assured him, recognising the same look in Hiram's eyes as she had felt flash through her own when Rachel had caught her curling irons, although she had been there to witness the accident. "Those stupid curling irons of hers." Almost unconsciously, Shelby twisted a strand of Rachel's curled hair around her finger, and Rachel, used to the same affection from her fathers, did not immediately stop it. But then she realised that she wasn't either of her dads, but her mother, the one who had abandoned her time and time again and she jerked her head, not hard enough to pull away from her mother's touch, but Shelby took the hint anyway and allowed her hand to drop back to her side.

The sound of the doorbell echoing through the house startled all three of them. There was an awkward moment in which no one moved, assuming one of the others would go for the door, but when nobody volunteered, Rachel reluctantly began to walk out of the kitchen, deciding it was probably Kurt anyway. As she passed Hiram, he took her arm gently, stopping her in her tracks and before she could respond, he pulled her body close to his and enshrouded her in a hug.

Rachel was so surprised, it took her a few seconds to respond, but then she hugged her dad back even more tightly than he was holding her, feeling the relief wash over her so strongly that if he had not had his arms around her, she may have fallen. He didn't hate her after all. Neither of them spoke during the embrace, or as they pulled apart several moments later to see Shelby had gone to answer the door to give them some privacy, and seconds later, Rachel heard many surprised voices wondering if they had come to the wrong house.

Hiram squeezed Rachel's shoulder gently before giving her a light push towards the hall, silently granting permission for her to leave. Rachel gave him a weak but genuine smile, and just before she turned the corner, she saw him return it with a lingering look of sadness in his eyes that she knew she had put there.

Much to Rachel's surprise, she entered the hall to find it crowded with what looked like every member of glee. She blinked, sure her eyes were deceiving her. Since when did she walk to school with anyone other than Kurt? But now he, Noah, Finn, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Sam and Mike were all gathered in her hallway, staring from Rachel to Shelby as if they had stumbled across them in the midst of a serial killers' meeting.

"What are you guys doing here?" Rachel breathed, finally understanding Kurt's warning about 'everybody'. Her initial instinct was to go to hug her best friend, but one glance sent a wave of anger surging through her. It was not as strong as it had been the previous day, but it was there and she wasn't ready for the hug and make up just yet.

"We're your army," Noah said, as if that explained everything. All the glee kid's eyes had left her mother and were now fixed upon her, searching her for her reaction, her current mood, anything to tell them what they had heard was not true, even though they all knew in their hearts that it was. They did not need Kurt's confirmation to realise what they had missed for so many months.

Rachel stared around at her 'army', wondering where they had been in all the months she had needed them. After she broke up with Finn, even Santana had realised something was very wrong, enough so that she had called herself out on her own lie, but it had only been Kurt who had followed her. True, Mercedes had been furious with Santana, but no one else had come after her, no one had asked her how she was, Santana had even been allowed to stay in the glee club.

The last thing she had said to them before walking out of all of their lives was _I'm done. _Why had that not been enough to have them at her door? Why had they had to know the darkest extent to what she had been feeling in that very moment to be willing to help? Only a select few had even spoken to her. The rest had acted like she no longer existed. As soon as her voice was no longer an asset to them, she may as well not have done.

Rachel opened her mouth to tell them all to leave her alone, but they were gathered tightly together, looking sheepish and, for the most part, apologetic. They looked as if they expected her to rip them to shreds and tell them to stay out of her life. She remembered all too well what it was like to be there, to be sorry, but not quite know how to say it. She knew what it was like to feel the guilt pressing down like a constant weight she was forced to carry. They didn't deserve it, she knew they didn't, but she was so tired of fighting.

One dad was too furious with her to help, the other would try his best, but she knew he would be able to do little in the way of support her, she was likely to never see her mother again once she left for school, and Kurt had betrayed her. If she slammed the door on her ex team mates too, she would have no one. Rachel had been there before, she had been there for most of her life, and if there was one thing she knew for sure it was that it was better to have a handful of imperfect friends than it was to be alone.

So plastering on a smile that hid the anger, hurt and betrayal that she still felt towards every person there, she joined the group and together, they left the house, her army swarming around her, as if they were afraid she would fall if left to walk alone.

**I know Rachel's dads reacted badly, but unfortunately, it's how a lot of people do react, especially when they could never understand why someone would do that to themselves, and it's someone they love. **

**Sorry, I meant to post this chapter a couple of days ago but completely forgot. Please continue to review, I love reading them all. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Trigger warning. **

The task of walking onto the school grounds seemed much less daunting with a circle of friends gathered around her, quite literally protecting her from the stares that tried to follow her through the school. They spoke loudly, leaning right in close to Rachel to make sure their voices were all she heard and not the sound of the whispers that plagued the group wherever they went. One thing Rachel did notice though, was that none of them would touch her. She didn't know if it was because they were afraid of hurting her, or simply disgusted by what she had done. She tried to dismiss the thought as soon as it had come because it wasn't fair for her to be thinking those things about her friends when they were trying so hard.

Although he followed them and helped protect her, Kurt stayed at a distance from her, for which Rachel was grateful. She didn't want to speak to him, she was still too angry. A part of her knew her fury was irrational, he had not set out to hurt her, only to help, but the humiliation and shame of having to admit to what she had been doing was still too raw. She couldn't forget how he had ignored her pleas and a twisted part of her believed he hadn't done it for her, but for himself. He had done it because he didn't want the burden so had passed her on like a package that had reached the wrong address. A feeling Rachel was all too used to.

"What was your mom doing at your house?" Asked Puck, falling into step beside Rachel as the gang shuffled along the corridor. He didn't mention that she was also the woman to adopt his child, and Rachel didn't bring it up either. After months of hiding her own pain, she had learned when people wanted to talk about something and just needed a little probing, and when they just plain didn't want the conversation.

"She's not my mom," snapped Rachel, a little more aggressively than she meant to. She paused before carrying on, her tone calmer when she did. "But as much as I think my story telling abilities are both captivating and amusing, it's a long one for such an early hour when I am running on the amount of sleep I managed last night. So I will tell you the short version." Puck rolled his eyes and resisted urge to point out that she could have told the entire story in the words it took her to explain that.

"She came out of concern for my well-being, as much as I struggle to believe it. It was her belief that my dads were mistreating me. I was sent upstairs while they conferred, and-" Rachel stopped. She didn't want to tell him the next part of the story, in which two of her parents had walked in on her hurting herself. Not only would it mean admitting to doing it, but she was ashamed at how careless he had been and worried that Noah would assume she had done it on purpose to gain their attention.

"Well, when she and my fathers realised what had really been going on, dad stormed out and daddy couldn't even be in the same room as me he was so heartbroken. Shelby didn't trust me on my own." Puck gave a silent cheer for the woman who he had tried, for a whole year, to forget. From what Rachel had told him, she had dealt best with what had happened. Or at least, she hadn't been stupid enough to storm off and leave her. At least someone who knew what they were doing was looking after his daughter.

"How did you like that?" He quizzed, picturing Rachel standing in front of her mother, index finger raised, one hand on her hip and delivering a lecture about being old and independent enough to cope perfectly well on her own and especially did not need the woman who had been absent from her life for seventeen years. Now that would have been an argument he would have liked to have seen. He hadn't seen much of Shelby, but from what he had heard, she was as stubborn and argumentative as her daughter.

"We have actually came to reach a mutual understanding of one another's feelings. To an extent. I accepted her presence, even if I did not much like it, while she attempted to respect my emotional state and did not probe me for answers. At least not as much as I feared she would."

Puck slung his arm around Rachel's shoulders and squeezed them tightly, mostly because he knew it annoyed her when he did that. "If you ever get sick of the third degree around there, you can always come crash at my place. My mom put up with Quinn, she'd love to have a law abiding Jewish girl in the house. Especially one I didn't knock up." Rachel rolled her eyes but rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to trail down the hall.

"Thank-you Noah," she muttered, closing her eyes, briefly. The lack of sleep from the night before was beginning to take its toll on her, and she was struggling to stay focused. At least her first class was Spanish. Mr Schue wouldn't mind if she zoned out in his class, as long as she didn't fall too behind in the work. Not that she had a clue what they were even doing anymore. It had been a long time since she had properly engaged in a lesson.

Rachel said goodbye to her friends at the door of the classroom, exchanging hugs with most of them before she left. She could see their questions in their eyes, they wanted to hear from her mouth that it was true, they wanted to know how long for, they wanted to know why, they wanted to know how she had hidden it, how none of them had noticed, but most of all, they wanted to know if they played a part in any of the scars she would bare for the rest of her life. But just like Rachel was too afraid to answer them, they were too scared to ask.

Sam and Finn shared the class with her, and Sam shot her a smile and held open the door. Finn wouldn't even look at her. Despite his distance, Rachel felt her ex's eyes on her throughout the class. She wished he wouldn't. She wanted to turn around and tell him to look towards the front and pay attention, but their relationship wasn't there anymore. She couldn't tell him what to do, and he couldn't stare at her. Not like he was.

It was his reaction she had been dreading the most. Rachel had never wanted Noah to find out. She'd never wanted Kurt, Mr Schue or her fathers to find out. She'd especially never wanted her mother to find out. But she'd tell all of them one thousand times over and force herself to witness every second of their reaction if it would mean avoiding Finn's. Because he was the one who had dated her for the first weeks of it and never so much as noticed her change. He was the one who had dumped her so cruelly and sent her spiralling down into the deep pit she couldn't climb out of. He was the one who had taken away her final hope of being worth something.

The class flew by all too quickly for Rachel's liking. As much as she didn't have the energy for school and classes, they were safe. There was only a certain extent of taunting that could go on in the classroom, people could not openly bully her. Not that they didn't try. She'd heard the mutters and whispers that surrounded her throughout Mr Schue's lecture. They'd kept their voices down enough so their teacher didn't hear, but didn't extend the same grace to Rachel. She'd even felt the balled up note hit her back, but sure it would contain vicious insults, she had not bothered to pick it up from the floor where it had landed.

As much as Rachel wanted to hurry out and run to the bathroom to relieve the urge she had been struggling with since her parents had discovered her the night before, she knew she had to wait for Sam and Finn. They would be waiting to walk her to her next class, probably along with the rest of the glee kids, aside from Santana, Quinn and Brittany, but Rachel had never expected them to be there. Santana and Quinn because they just didn't care about her, and they were never going to. Brittany because she didn't know how to do something Santana wasn't.

"I have to talk to you," Finn said as soon as they had gathered at her desk. Rachel's eyes flickered to Sam, who was watching her for her reaction. She knew all she had to do was say the word and he would refuse to leave them alone. She so wanted that. She longed to tell Finn where to go, but they had just started to mend their relationship, and the conversation was something she was going to have to do sooner or later. At least if she did it sooner, that would be almost everything out of the way. She'd already confronted her parents and Kurt.

Very reluctantly, Rachel gave the smallest of nods, half hoping Finn wouldn't see it and they'd assume her silence to be a no. But Finn instantly put a hand on the small of her back and started leading her out of the classroom without even waiting for Sam to say he'd be waiting at the end of the hall. He led her into a nearby empty classroom, and Rachel waited in silence for him to say something. She was growing tired of the silence, it was all she ever seemed to hear. Since they found out, no one was speaking. The only one who was treating her as he always had done was Noah.

"Is it true?" He asked eventually, but not like it was a real question. He knew, just like everyone else, he knew the truth. He'd have had it confirmed by Kurt and Puck, and with the rumours flying around the school, it would be hard to deny, even if the last thing he wanted to do was believe it. The question was more for the clarity. He _needed _to hear it from her mouth so he could move onto the next step. Whatever that was.

Rachel simply nodded, afraid of speaking. If she sounded too casual, he was sure to flare up, but if she sounded aggressive that wasn't going to please him either. Sounding sad might make him pity her, and that was the last thing she wanted from anyone. She was so lost for the right thing to say and the correct way to say it that it was easier just to stay silent.

"How-I mean, did you- were we...?" Finn trailed off, but Rachel knew what he was trying to ask. Again, she nodded, casting her eyes down to the floor to avoid his. She lent against the desk she was standing by and wrapped her arms around her stomach, flinching when they pressed against the painful cuts.

"Is that why you didn't want to have sex with me?" Finn blurted, and Rachel resisted the temptation to lecture him on asking her something so personal. It was a conversation they needed to have if they were ever going to move forward. He needed to know why she acted the way she did, for both of them. Perhaps he could help her to understand the way he had behaved. That time, she shook her head.

"No Finn, I didn't want to sleep with you because I'm not ready. I've already told you I want to wait until I'm twenty five, and I will still have these scars then. My sexual activity towards you had nothing to do with what I was doing to myself, or Noah." Finn winced, remembering the things he had accused her of, what he had said.

He didn't get it. She was Rachel. Sort of. She was talking like Rachel, she looked like Rachel, but her dem- dimin- whatever the word was, wasn't Rachel. She looked at her feet and held herself. The Rachel he had gone out with stood up straight and smiled at the world, even when it was tossing slushies in her face. She was just so confident, even when she wasn't even speaking, which he'd always found amazing about her. But now she just looked scared, or like she might cry, or like she just didn't believe in herself anymore and Finn didn't know which one was worse.

"Look, I know nothing's going down between you and Puck, and I know it never did. I'm sorry I thought you would do that stuff. But all this," he gestured to her body with his hand, forcing the image of the scars underneath her clothes out of his mind. "Rach, please tell me I didn't cause this."

Rachel chewed her lip, nervously. He hadn't caused it, not really. His words were not the first she had carved on her skin, his taunts were not what drove her to pick up the blade for the first time, but he had never tried to stop the ones that had. He'd never defended her, and on more than one occasion, she'd heard him speak up for Quinn when he had dated her, which had driven out the thoughts that he was just a coward. From that Rachel had concluded it must be her. Finn just couldn't argue with the things being said about her because they were true.

"Many people caused this, Finn, myself included. Some didn't have to directly insult me, I saw it in their eyes and others just caused it by not wanting me around. You did play a part in this though Finn, just like Kurt, Mercedes, Quinn, Santana, my mother and even Mr Schue. You all played a part in it, some of the scars are in aid of people whom I don't even know the name of. You all did this to me, but most of all I did it to myself. I will not deny you have words to regret and actions to be guilty of, but I am not innocent and I'm sorry too.

"I'm sorry for becoming this, for doing what I do. I thought I was above all of them, I thought one day I would be signing my name on their shirts, and then they would regret all the names they had ever called me, but the more they did call me those names, the more I believed I was dreaming a dream that I was never going to live. It was upon that realisation that the comments began to matter. What they were saying about me was true and I wanted to hurt myself more than they ever could, that way, I could stay on top."

It was the most she had spoken about it to anyone, and Rachel instantly felt both a pang of regret and relief. She was glad that she had finally been able to explain her motives to someone without screaming it at them, but she was afraid he wouldn't understand, that he would yell at her, or call her stupid. She was scared that finally opening up to someone would be the biggest mistake she had ever made, but most of all, she was scared it would turn out to be the right thing. If he didn't laugh her out of the room now, he'd just hurt her further down the line when it would be harder to take. He'd made her trust him once before and then broken that trust, along with her heart and fight into shattered fragments.

While she'd fallen into her own thoughts, Rachel hadn't noticed Finn cross the distance between them and come to a halt inches from her. His face was so close to hers that she could see the otherwise invisible imperfections on his skin. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. It didn't hurt, but Rachel could feel his fingers digging into her jaw bone, creating a soft ache where they held themselves.

"Listen to me Rachel," he said, so forcefully that she didn't even think about running. "You just don't get it do you? You were always on top. You were there because you didn't care about what those jerks thought of you and that made you so much better than them. I always loved that about you, how you could just sit there and take it and not bat an eyelid. Even if it was hurting you inside, you were always strong enough not to show it, and that was what gave you power over them. Not-not- _hurting _yourself like that."

Rachel smiled at him, sadly, but before she could reply, he spoke again. "No, don't! Don't smile like that, it's not real and it means you're not listening. I knowit was just a show Rachel, I know they hurt you really, but you had the control not to show it, you smiled, always. Whatever happened, the show didn't fall apart, or whatever the phrase is and you should have heard how much it pissed them off. It totally got to Karofsky that he'd never seen you shed a tear, hearing him sat that made me want to rip his teeth out, but it was what made you so _great, _Rach."

Rachel said nothing. There was nothing to say. It was like the only tool she had ever possessed had just been ripped from her. No, not ripped. Taken. Coaxed gently away as the person carefully explained why she wasn't allowed it. And that was what she needed. All along, she had just wanted someone to give her a good reason why not. She didn't want them to scream at her and snatch away what she saw as her only chance to survive. She didn't want them to cry about what she was doing to herself. She just needed to know why she wasn't allowed, like a child who wanted to see if their finger could fit through a plug socket.

It was a breakthrough. One that made her want to both scream with joy and terror. The thought of life without it made her want to just stop, right there and then and give up on her whole life because she had nothing without it. But not for the reasons she first believed. With or without it, people were still going to hate her, they were still going to call her names, they were still going to think she was a loser. But without it, it meant whatever they did to her, she would win. She'd always win as long as she never once showed them the weakness she felt. If she took that weakness and did something good out of it, showed the person two feet down the hall that not everyone was as hateful as the person they were about to encounter.

But the reason she needed it now was something else altogether. It was not about the bullies and it hadn't been for a long time. It had nothing to do with Shelby or Finn, or anyone else who had ever rejected and pushed her away. Rachel did it still, because she was addicted.

**Sorry, I forgot to post this and now my laptop's about to die and the charger's broken, so all hell is going to break loose. I cannot function without it. Anyway, thought I'd get this posted before it packs in. Please review. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Trigger warning. By the way, for later reference, italics are Kurt singing, bold, Rachel. **

After their talk in the classroom, Finn and Rachel fell back into the comfortable friendship they'd had before they began dating. The sort that was slightly awkward from time to time when the feelings that were so obviously there made themselves apparent, but it was stable and as long as they ignored the feelings, uncomplicated. Finn fell into a threesome with her and Kurt, and they began to hang around with one another more and more, except for Friday nights. That was still date night, something that Finn had found very strange at first, and if he hadn't known of his brother's sexuality, he would have been sure of a deeper meaning.

Spending time with both Finn and Kurt had been awkward at first. Things with Finn were only just beginning to change from crumbled almost beyond repair to gentle friendship, and as much as she didn't want to be, Rachel found she was still so irrationally angry with Kurt. The part of her that believed he had only told because he didn't want to deal with the burden she came with wouldn't shut up, and the anger slowly turned into hurt. But he was trying so hard now, and being so kind that Rachel couldn't help but return it. She didn't want to fight with him, but the feelings were still there, simmering under the surface and she only hoped they would evaporate before they could explode.

Since her secret had become popular knowledge around the school, Rachel found she could not go anywhere without at least one member of the glee club accompanying her, not even to the bathroom. Although she hated the reasons behind it, the arrangement made her finally feel as if she had friends. It was wonderful to have someone to help her wash the slushie from her her and face, a job that she had grown so used to doing alone unless Kurt happened to be walking by just as it was flung, ready to step in and escort her.

Rachel also found it was impossible for her to find a free evening. Her friends knew her dads worked late and made it their mission for at least one of them to be with her until they came home. Sometimes, she would be dragged around Kurt and Finn's house, other days, Mercedes and Sam would come to her, or the entire group, minus the cheerleaders, would go to Breadsticks, or for a milkshake together.

It was a nice gesture, and a part of Rachel loved the fact that she seemed to really and truly have friends. Friends who actually cared about her, friends who would go out of their way for her, friends who she could laugh with, friends who made her forget. But at the same time, it was suffocating. Between them and her dads, it was almost impossible for Rachel to be able to get away and do what she most craved. She missed her blade like a child might miss their favourite toy, the bear they rocked themselves to sleep at night with.

It was a Wednesday night, and Kurt and Finn had kidnapped her immediately after school and bundled her into Finn's truck. Rachel tutted and sighed and demanded to know where they were going, but the two boys merely exchanged smirks and Finn carried on driving, ignoring her protests. Eventually, Rachel sighed dramatically one last time and threw herself back in her seat, disgruntled. Her skin itched to hurt, and being in a crammed car with her best friend and ex boyfriend was not top on her desired 'to do' list. She just wanted to get home and-

"Cat!" screamed Kurt, startling Rachel out of her thoughts and almost right out of her seat, and in the next second the car squealed to a sudden halt and she was thrown forwards, her seatbelt catching her and flinging her back again, violently. She screamed, partly because that seemed like the right thing to do, and partly because Finn's arm had shot out, pressing like a bar around her middle to stop her from hurtling forwards into the dashboard at the same time as her seatbelt had attempted the same job and the combination of the two made her stomach feel like it was being torn apart.

"Are you guys okay?" Finn panicked, but his eyes were fixed on Rachel, hearing the scream that had issued from her mouth.

"I'm fine," Kurt assured him, "I just pray I can say the same thing for my outfit." Rachel nodded, her hand over her stomach and she bit into the corner of her mouth to stop herself making another sound. They knew it was there, but she was so used to hiding that pain from them, that it came without her thinking about it.

"Stupid cat," Finn muttered, angrily as the culprit made a dash for the other side of the pavement, turning to hiss at the car that had almost flattened it before its paws disappeared into the deep snow. Rachel sighed as Finn began to drive again, more slowly that time, shooting her odd glances each time he felt it was safe to take his eyes off the road.

"Will you look at the road Finn!" Rachel snapped as his eyes travelled to her a fifth time. "We almost got killed back there, unless you wish to have a more long lasting accident than I suggest you stop glancing at me as if I'm about to spontaneously combust and focus on driving!"

It was Finn's turn to sigh as he returned his gaze to the road. Rachel was doing that a a lot lately. Snapping at him like Quinn used to, and it wasn't like her. She didn't get angry with people, unless they were trying to take the solos, she was patient and kind and that was part of the reason he fell in love with her in the first place. But something had happened to her, and she wasn't _his _Rachel anymore. Finn wanted to find the person he had fallen in love with, but he didn't know where to look. He didn't know where she had gone.

…

Twelve minutes later, Rachel stood between Kurt and Finn gazing down a huge snow covered hill with a large plank of wood in her hand that was apparently used for getting down. Finn had said it was like a ride at a theme park, only you didn't have to pay and it was funner (until Rachel had pointed out to him that funner wasn't a word). Even Kurt swore by it, although he disapproved of the snow that sprayed around him and sprinkled his clothes as the sledge flew down the hill.

Personally, Rachel thought she was more likely to end up with a broken neck before she could worry about dirtying her coat, but Finn looked so eager, like he was expecting the activity to immediately pull her out of whatever it was she had fallen into, that Rachel didn't have the heart to refuse. She gripped the wooden board in her gloved hands, reluctant to let it drop into the soft snow, because then she would be expected to get on it and plunge to her certain death. But perhaps that would not be such a bad thing.

What was wrong with her? She was out with her friends, she should be enjoying herself, not thinking about what it would be like if she really were to break her neck. Who would come to her funeral? Would it be big, or kept as a small event with just close friends and family? Who would cry? Finn maybe. And Kurt. Her dads, or at least one of them would. No one else though. The glee club would be there, and they would act as they should, but they'd be more focused on how they were going to divide the solos now that she was gone.

Immediately, Rachel felt a rush of guilt for that thought. They had been so kind to her over the past few days, and she repayed them by believing them to be so shallow? Of course they wouldn't be thinking about things like that at her funeral. They were her friends, they cared about her. Although Rachel told herself that firmly, in a voice that could not be argued with, there was still a small murmur in the back of her head that told her she was simply deluding herself by thinking that anyone, anywhere, would care.

"Hop on Princess!" A voice called to her from her feet and Rachel snapped her eyes to the ground to see Kurt grinning up at her from his own sledge. She forced a return smile and dropped her 'sledge' into the snow, reluctantly sitting down on it, slowly, as if it were a Hippogriff that would attack her if she did not wait for its permission. The sledge tottered on the edge of the hill as Rachel sat down, threatening to drop and throw her to her doom.

Then, before she knew what was happening, she felt and push and she was hurtling down the hill, a shriek filling the snow sprayed air around her. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the turned up edges of her sledge for life, she was certain she had left her stomach somewhere at the top of the hill, but her heart was making itself known by banging hard in her mouth. Her scream was cut off suddenly as the breath left her, and she was flying so fast she couldn't catch it again.

Almost as quickly as it had began, it was over, but no one had told her about the violent jerk at the bottom of the hill, and without having time to prepare for it, Rachel was thrown from her sledge and landed in a messy heap of snow and brambles several feet away. She waited for the world to stop spinning before carefully pushing herself into a sitting position just as Kurt and Finn reached the bottom of the hill and leapt of their sledges to see if she was okay.

Before they could even ask, however, Rachel sprung to her feet, a fistful of snow already gathered in her hand. Angrily, she flung it into Finn's face, just as he opened his mouth to talk to her. He spluttered, spitting out a mouthful of snow and wiping chunks from his eyes and from beside her, Rachel heard Kurt laugh. His laughter was soon stopped as his feet suddenly vanished from under him, courtesy of Rachel's foot finding its way to his ankles, and he tumbled down into the snow, drenching his coat in white flakes.

"If either of you ever do that to me again I will personally track down your-" before she could go any further, her words were stopped by a mouthful of snow. It instantly numbed the inside of her mouth, burning it with its cold even as she spat it out. Snow fell from her hair and stuck to her cheeks, falling under the material of her coat, freezing the rest of her body.

It was the start of a full scale snowball fight. Finn and Kurt ganged up on her, laughing, their cheeks flushed with the cold. Rachel laughed too, because it was the appropriate thing to do, but inside she was furious. She was angry that they had dragged her out when she longed to be at home in the warm with her blade and no one to answer to, but then Finn had almost crashed the car, they had sent her hurtling down a hill and crashing into the snow, and then thought it hilarious to begin this childish snow fight like they were six years old. Trust Finn to be so childlike and naive, he was going to college in little over a year, and yet he still behaved as if he were six.

Rachel knew she was being irrational. She knew her anger was uncalled for, and tried to keep it under wraps, relieving her frustration by flinging the snowballs with all of her strength, but the smile was hard to keep on. She was going through the motions of being an ordinary, happy teenager, out to have fun with her friends and muck around in the snow, like anyone else might do, but inside she felt as though she were screaming. Screaming in both fury and anguish, yet the smiles were not once wiped from Kurt and Finn's faces as they remained oblivious to the scream mounting in her head, growing louder and louder until she could hear nothing else.

…

She turned around too late to dodge out of the way of the drink flying at her face. She saw the hand just in time to close her eyes and wait for it to hit target, and although she heard a gasp and the collective laughter of everyone gathered in the corridor, she did not feel the slushie hit her. Wondering if she had finally had so many she was completely immune to the feeling, Rachel opened her eyes. They didn't sting.

Rachel blinked in surprise, but the mystery was soon solved by the sight of the slushie soaked blonde rooted to the spot, directly in front of her. From the back, it looked like Quinn, but that was insane, Quinn would never take a slushie for her. She was more often than not the one giving them out and it was from the very same person that Rachel had received her first one. But the image was not going away, and Karofsky's laugh was directed right at the person in front of her.

"Look Berry," he cackled. "You've got yourself a girlfriend." Rachel scowled at him, opening her mouth to respond, but her voice stuck in her throat when the person turned around, and Rachel saw there was a reason she looked so much like Quinn.

For a long while, she could do nothing but stare. Everyone else began to trail to their next class, losing interest in the scene they had seen so many times before, but Rachel was still transfixed, staring at Quinn as if she had grown an arm from her stomach.

"What?" Snapped the slushie coated cheerleader eventually, growing sick of the stare. It was almost as bad as having the rest of the school laugh at her. Rachel's shock that she had done something like that for her just reminded her she could take all the slushies in the world and they would never be even.

Finally, Rachel seemed to come to herself and snapped out of her shock. She smiled weakly at Quinn and when the cheerio began to storm towards the bathroom to clean up, Rachel followed, intending to help her wipe the ice away. Before she could go anymore than a few steps, however, Quinn turned on her, for some reason, looking furious.

"Don't!" She snapped, and Rachel wondered if she had meant to save her from the slushie attack or simply had been in the wrong spot at the wrong second. "Don't help me. I've never helped you, and I was the cause of most of them, so just don't, okay? For once in your life, be mean back and leave me. Then we'll be even."

It wasn't true. One slushie did not make up for all the scars that Rachel had made in Quinn's name, it did not make up for the slushie a day she had become used to since she had started the tradition three years ago, it did not make her words any less harsh, or her hatred any easier to take. They were no where near to being even, whether Rachel helped her or not, but Rachel did not argue. It was obvious that Quinn knew that, but that didn't mean she was going to extend her kindness.

But perhaps it was better that way. Quinn would ignore her, and they would have an unspoken truce. They'd stay out of each other's way and she needn't be the cause of any future scars, even if she couldn't erase the ones she had already marked. Rachel nodded, and without arguing further, or pointing out that they would never be even, she walked away, but knew in her heart she had made the right choice.

Quinn would never make up for what she had done, but she would live with the guilt long enough to be well punished.

...

The ice hit her face before she could even see the hand shoot out. Someone, she didn't know who, chucked the empty cup at her so the remains splashed over the part of her top that was not already ruined and she heard the scream of laughter from all around as every witness delighted in her pain. Some actually pointed, like she was some exhibit in a zoo, nothing more than an animal. That was what it felt like. As if she were trapped in a cage, watching life go on around her whilst not having a part in it herself.

"What you gonna do Rupaul?" Someone called out. "Cut yourself?" Rachel ran from the second round of laughter that followed that statement, ignoring Kurt's voice as he called after her. She didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to talk to anyone. The tears threatened behind her eyes, stinging, and she just wanted to be alone and let them out.

The doors to the auditorium crashed against the wall as Rachel flung them open, rushing inside as if a pack of wild dogs were at her feet. As soon as they swung shut behind her, she felt instantly calmer. Just being there, away from everyone's staring eyes, jeering laughter, and the odd concerned glance made her feel safe and protected. No one could get to her in there, only the glee kids ever entered the auditorium, and even that was on the rare assignment practice.

Slushy dripped from her face as sat on the piano stall and pressed a few keys, experimentally. A chunk of ice fell from her hair and onto the white key, staining it red, but Rachel didn't care. She continued to play an unknown tune, as if she couldn't feel the cold drink running underneath her bra and leaking down her neck. She played anything that came into her head, any small tune she had ever learned, just something to listen to other than the cruel laughter that rang in her ears, until she eventually settled on a song she knew well.

_What is it Lord that you want, _

_That I am not seeing?_

_What in my innocent prayers, _

_Am I failing to say?_

_Never before have I questioned the truth of your being_

_Never once have I dared_

_Never until today_

_Now that I need more than ever my guard to be near me_

_Do you hear when I call?_

_Are you there after all?_

_You have to be there, you have to_

_My life I have placed in thy keep_

_And without you I am drifting_

_On a dark and rising sea_

_You have to be there, you have to_

_Without you I drown in the deep_

_Too far, too far from land_

_The waters drag me down, I reach for your hand._

Rachel was so absorbed in the music, she didn't notice the doors inch open, much more slowly and carefully than she had in her desperation to be away. She didn't notice Kurt slip into the room and stand behind her, listening to her play. She didn't notice him come closer and closer until he could reach out and touch her shoulder until he did, and she jumped, violently. She swung around, her hands flying from the piano like she was a child caught in the cookie jar.

At seeing Kurt, she felt immediately uncomfortable. Not because she was still covered in slushie, or because she had not yet told him her real feelings surrounding what had happened the day her secret had poured over the rest of the school, but because of her faith. Rachel knew Kurt did not share her beliefs, although he had started to come around since his father's heart attack, and she was afraid he would think her stupid for singing to a God he didn't believe in.

But Kurt wasn't looking at her with an expression of mockery, but gazing down at her, sadly. There were tears in his eyes that he wouldn't shed, and he looked almost guilty, as if he were sorry for interrupting her. His hand was gentle on her shoulder and she could feel the warmth radiating from it, making her realise how cold she was from the ice that soaked her.

Kurt sat down slowly on the discarded chair beside Rachel's stool, his hand not leaving her shoulder and eyes remaining fixed on hers. "You're going to stop running from me," he told her, without leaving room for her argument. "And you're going to tell me what's been bothering you. You've been treating me like I'm going to pass on some horrible disease for the past four and a half days." He didn't speak unkindly, but Rachel knew there would be little point in protest. She sighed, softly.

"It was not my intention to hurt you. By staying quiet, I was attempting to avoid an unnecessary argument," she paused, searching for new ways to ramble so she could avoid getting to the point. "The last thing I want it to fall out with you, Kurt, on top of everything else that has fallen apart in my life within the recent days. But I can't help but feel-I often wonder if you-if you forced me to go to Mr Schuster because you didn't want to deal with the burden that my friendship brings yourself."

For a long while, Kurt was silent. Rachel dropped her eyes from his and stared instead at the piano keys. Regionals had passed. From what she had heard, the New Directions had won, although it had been a close call. They had not done original songs like she had suggested so long ago, but instead something by My Chemical Romance, and some other number that Kurt had sung with Mercedes. Santana had sung the solo. It was a good selection, one that Rachel would have picked out herself if she could not be lead vocalist.

Lost in thought, it took her a while to realise Kurt was speaking. "...ridiculous Rachel." Ridiculous. That was what so many thought of her. The way she spoke, the way she dressed, her eagerness to be in school, to learn, to be in the spotlight, all of it was ridiculous. The target of so much bullying. "I went to Mr Schue because I didn't know what to do. It wasn't because I didn't want to help you, but because I couldn't. You need something that is far beyond what I can do. Beyond what any of us can do."

Rachel was barely listening. She registered somewhere that he was telling her what she had wanted to hear for days, that she wasn't a burden, and he loved her despite what she had done, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Another drop of ice rolled down her cheek and dripped from her chin. And another. It wasn't until the fourth drop fell from her face that Rachel realised it was not slushy, but her tears.

A gentle hand caught the next one before it could fall. "I wish you had told me sooner," Kurt said, simply, but it was all Rachel needed to hear. It meant he didn't want to ignore what he now knew and go back to the easy friendship they'd had before. He was glad to know, to be able to help. Rachel still didn't know if she could believe him or bring herself to care, because she was so used to being alone it wouldn't matter if she had to walk this path with only her shadow too, but it was a comfort all the same.

_I can show you the world, _

_Shining, shimmering, splendid,_

_Tell me, Princess,_

_Now when did you last let your heart decide?_

_I can open your eyes, _

_Take you wonder by wonder, _

_Over sideways and under on a magic carpet ride. _

Rachel smiled softly at the familiar song. She wished such a thing as a magic carpet were real, something that could whisk her away from all the hurt and taunts.

_A whole new world, _

_A new fantastic point of view_

_No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming. _

Rachel closed her eyes as the music washed over her, and allowed herself to imagine the world Kurt wanted. The world free from everything that was hurting her, and in turn, him too. A world where no one would drag them down, or whisk their magic carpet from under them so they plummeted back down to earth, falling through endless space. A world where finally, she could be happy. Without even being aware of deciding to join in, Rachel was singing the next verse, allowing the words to carry her away to the world they were singing.

**A whole new world, **

**A dazzling place I never knew**

**But when I'm way up here, **

**It's crystal clear, **

**That now I'm in a whole new world with you. **

_Now I'm in a whole new world with you_

Kurt took Rachel's hand, spinning her around as if they really were riding through the skies, soaring together through weightless clouds and sparkling diamond stars.

**Unbelievable sights, indescribable feeling,**

**Soaring, tumbling, free wheeling, **

**Through an endless diamond sky. **

**A whole new world, **

The auditorium no longer existed. It was just the two of them and the words of the song, a private world the music had carried them to, something only they could be a part of.

_Don't you dare close your eyes_

**A hundred thousand things to see**

_Hold your breath it gets better_

**I'm like a shooting star, I've come so far,**

**I can't go back to where I used to be**

It had been so long since she had tried anything else, that Rachel had forgotten that cutting was not her only escape. It did not last as long, but all the time she was singing, she was free. Especially singing with Kurt, with his promise to be by her side throughout whatever her future held.

_A whole new world_

_**I'll chase them anywhere, **_

_**There's time to spare,**_

_**Let me share this whole new world with you. **_

_A whole new world _**(A whole new world)**

_That's where we'll be _**(That's where we'll be)**

_A thrilling chase_

**A wondrous place**

_**For you and me.**_

The last note of the song trailed away into the empty room, disappearing amongst the dust that coated the piano and the murmuring voices from beyond the door, but the world did not fall away. It stood, shining, shimmering, splendid, entwining their lives together as Rachel left behind the separate, cold world she had fallen into and joined Kurt on the magic carpet ride.

**Don't worry, Rachel isn't cured just like that. I'm not thick, I know it's going to take more than a song, but it's a step. Reviews are still much loved and I really appreciate all the ones I have so far :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Trigger warning. Bold is Finn singing, italics, Rachel. **

**The song, by the way, is 'Elephant Love Medley' from Moulin Rouge. I didn't just go crazy and start using every song I could think of. I advice you to listen as you read (but wait until you get to that part) it will help set the scene and it's a good song. **

The end of the straw cut into her tongue as Rachel chewed it, thoughtfully. She was just finishing up her morning protein shake, something she hadn't had in so long, and eating the straw stopped the scream coming out of her mouth. She often wanted to scream, with either anger or despair, the pent up emotions would build inside her until she could barely contain them. When that happened, she sung, or she cut, or she chewed straws.

As she chewed and finished the last of the shake, she paced around the kitchen, walking from cupboard to draw and back again, sometimes going as far as the door before walking back to the sink. Rachel was well aware that the action made her look crazy, but she just felt so restless all of a sudden, she felt an almost uncontrollable urge to be moving, doing something to keep herself busy because chewing that straw just wasn't enough to keep the scream inside.

The next time Rachel made the journey to the door, she almost collided with Hiram, who had just entered the kitchen to make a mug of coffee before rushing off to work. It was rare Rachel got to see either of her fathers before school, but she had woken up before the sun and been unable to fall asleep again, so by the time 6am rolled around, she was showered, dressed and ready for school. She had even done her old morning workout, if only for something to distract her from the pain twisting her insides.

"I need to talk to you about something," her father snapped in his usual brisk tone. He hardly ever spoke to her with any softness, not since he had found out what she had been doing. In Rachel's opinion, he was the only one reacting appropriately. He was disgusted with her, he did everything he could be avoid being around her, and when he was forced to spend time in the same room as his daughter, he was cold and distant. It was no more than she deserved, and everyone else's kindness only added to the intense guilt at dragging them down with her.

"Your father and I have been discussing your-problem," he flashed her a scowl of disgust as he said the word 'problem' as if it were a disgusting swear word, and she a regular user of it. "And we've decided the best course of action is to get back in touch with the family therapist for some one on one sessions." Rachel blinked at him, as if therapy were an alien concept. "You start on Wednesday at six." Leroy did not wait for her opinion, he just shot her one last look of contempt and marched out of the room.

Rachel was too used to her father's anger to be hurt by it. His treatment of her as if she were a leper was something she had grown used to in the two weeks since he had found out what she was doing. Hiram was different. He still smiled at her as she came into a room, he said goodnight and kissed her cheek before she went upstairs to bed, he asked about her day in school and listened to her answer, carefully constructed in her head before they came home so she could leave out the parts were kids had pelted her with razors as she walked down the hall and told her to go and slice her wrists right open and do everyone a favour. He acted like her same old dad, but he no longer knew how to deal with her. He'd go through all lengths to avoid any heavy topics, and never once did he mention her 'problem', or indeed act as if he knew at all.

She stood still long after Leroy had left, the urge to pace leaving her at the same time as he had. She now had a different longing, one to go back up to bed and curl under the duvet and just fall asleep. That way, she wouldn't have to think, she wouldn't have to feel, she wouldn't have to face the day. Seeing a therapist was the last thing she wanted to do, and the last thing that was going to help. No matter how much she told a stranger, the kids were still going to taunt her, her father was still going to hate her as much as she hated herself, she was still going to wake up every morning with a weight of dread in her stomach at the thought of having to roll out of bed and face the day, but a painful emptiness stabbing at her heart at the thought of staying in bed all day and having nothing to do but think.

Eventually, Rachel came around long enough to glance at the clock and realise it was past eight. When had that happened? She couldn't really have been standing there for two hours, doing nothing but staring and thinking about Wednesday's appointment. With a shake of the head, she wondered out of the kitchen and picked the pile of books up from the arm of the sofa as she passed the lounge and made sure her keys were in her pocket before slamming the door behind her as she left the house, probably with more force than necessary, even though there was no one around to hear it.

…

Classes seemed to drag by more slowly than ever. Rachel used to love her lessons, she loved to learn, she loved knowing the answer to teachers' questions, she loved being the best, but something had happened to time. The classes would drag by as if the clock had come close to standing still and Rachel found herself unable to concentrate for so long. She'd find herself longing for the sound of the bell almost as soon as she sat down because there was something so torturous at being forced to sit in the same classroom, doing the same thing for so long.

She was relieved when the bell for lunch sounded through the English classroom and she leapt to her feet, gathering her things and dashing out of the door before the rest of the class had even registered the sound. She planned to spend the hour first part of the hour in the girls' bathroom, and then head to the auditorium when everyone had given up looking for her, but she had barely made it two steps out of the door when Finn grabbed her arm and swung her around. Rachel felt a surge of irritation. Was it too much to ask to just be left alone?

"Rach, I- erm, will you come to the auditorium with me? There's something I wanna say to you." Rachel was sure she didn't want to hear whatever it was, but she didn't have the heart to turn down Finn's eager, hopeful expression. She might be angry, but she wasn't mean. She nodded and wordlessly began to follow Finn through the busy hall. At least the corridors were still practically empty as she had rushed out of class so fast. If anyone called after her now, she knew Finn wouldn't let it slide like he once had and she couldn't be bothered with a fight.

To Rachel's disappointment, the auditorium was empty. She had been hoping that would be the one day someone else had decided to hang out in there, and then Finn might chose to save his speech for another time. "I've kinda wanted to talk to you for a while, and then the other night, Kurt got me watching some movie about prostitutes and I thought of you." Finn paled slightly, realising seconds after Rachel did what he had just said. "Not like you're a whore or anything, but the song. The song made me think of you."

Finn cleared his throat, thrown by the failed introduction. Rachel waited expectantly, but said nothing. She was nervous about what to expect, things had been easier with Finn, but only as long as they didn't go back to _that. _

**All you need is love.**

The song started so suddenly, that Rachel jumped. She had been expecting Finn to fiddle nervously for a few more moments before beginning. She sighed. Clearly, the song was going in a direction she didn't want. "Finn-" she began, but before she could utter another word, he cut her off.

**All you need is love.**

Rachel rolled her eyes, forgetting about sparing his feelings. "No, Finn, I don't-"

**All you need is love.**

"Stop it."

**I was made for loving you baby**

**You were made for loving me.**

Recognising the song, Rachel joined in with the next line. At least is was one that could apply to her, being with her would be a struggle, too much for Finn to emotionally bear and something she could never bring herself to put him through, no matter how much he thought he wanted it.

_The only way of loving me baby, _

_Is to pay a lovely fee. _

**Just one night**

**Give me just one night**

Rachel shook her head, it was one night that would turn into another, and another until they were officially and item again, and she couldn't deal with him, not on top of everything. He deserved better.

**In the name of love**

**One night in the name of love**

_You crazy fool_

_I won't give into you_

**Don't leave me this way, **

**I can't survive without your sweet love**

**Oh baby, don't leave me this way**

Rachel was immediately reminded of the way she had begged him to listen to her, to believe her. He had left her. He'd taken out her heart and crumbled it to tiny pieces before walking out on her and leaving her to fall apart all alone. No one believed her, he had made sure of that. So why did she feel so guilty for leaving him now?

_You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs. _

She certainly had.

**I look around and see it isn't so, oh no **

_Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs_

**Love lifts us up where we belong**

**Where eagles fly**

**On a mountain high**

_Love makes us act as if we are fools, _

_Throw our lives away,_

_For one happy day_

Rachel had made that mistake once. She'd given her heart and life to Finn, she had made him the only thing worth fighting for, the only person she had that stopped her falling. She had balanced everything on her trust for him, and when he had broken if and left her crying in that hallway, she'd had nothing. Her life had tumbled down around her and she had been too numb to even care. Now it seemed like there was no way back, nothing to cling to that would get her out of the hell hole she had fallen into. And for what? A love that had never been real. A happiness that was running on borrowed time.

**We could be heroes,**

**Just for one day.**

_You, you will be mean_

_And I, I'll hurt all the time_

Although a pained look shot through Finn's features at that, he didn't falter. He was determined to make her see that it would be different that time around, he'd listen to her, he'd_ see _her, and when she was hurting, she would go to him.

**We should be lovers**

_We can't do that,_

Rachel replied, although she could feel her resolve faltering. Finn had not sung to her since 'Jesse's Girl' and she had began to believe once the chase was over, he had just stopped caring. Maybe that's how it would be again. As soon as he had her back, everything would just fall back to how it was before, he'd let the bullies taunt her, he'd believe the first rumour that came his way and throw her aside like a bag of stinking rubbish.

**We should be lovers**

**And that's a fact**

_Though nothing, would keep us together_

All it had taken was the school bike to break them up the first time around. One with a known hatred for Rachel.

**We could steal time**

Rachel was surprised when he continued singing. She wasn't used to Finn being so persistent. She was the stubborn one in the relationship, the one who fought for them time and time again and was willing to struggle through their battles as a couple. He had thrown her away after just one misunderstanding, that had he asked her about first, would have been cleared up in an instant.

_**Just for one day, **_

_**We could be heroes, **_

_**Forever and ever**_

They sang the next part together as Rachel allowed herself to imagine what he was asking. Perhaps it could work. Perhaps Finn had learned his lesson. Perhaps he really would try, and that time, she wouldn't be hurt.

**We can be heroes, **

**Just because I-I will always love you **

_**And I can't help but need you **_

Rachel closed her eyes as she sung the last part, wishing it weren't true. She didn't want to need Finn, she didn't want to love him, but that part of her brain just wouldn't switch off, no matter how much she buried those feelings. She'd shut them off so thoroughly that she'd made herself believe she almost hated him, but along all of that, she'd never stopped loving him.

_How wonderful life is_

_**Now you're in the world.**_

They held the last note for as long as possible, Finn not wanting the moment to end, and Rachel afraid of its ending. When the song came to a close, she'd have to react to it. But the very last key fell away all too soon, and then there was nothing but silence as Finn waited hopefully, expecting her to lean forwards and kiss him, just like in the movie. Only they weren't fictional characters with a script to follow, it was real life, and in real life, the fairytale never ended with true love's kiss.

Rachel drew back just as her lips brushed against Finn's, dropping back onto the flats of her feet. She had not even been aware of standing on her tiptoes to reach him. She saw his face drop as she stepped away from him, his features crumpling in disappointment and the despair for the longed for ending he had missed by milliseconds. She saw the questions in his curious eyes as they searched her for the answers, but before he could find any of them she turned and fled from the auditorium, ashamed to be such a coward, but too scared of what would happen if she stayed to stop.

…

The second interception of the day came when Rachel made her way from lunch to her last class of the day, biology. She felt a rough hand seize her shoulder before she was dragged into the empty classroom she was passing by. Her heart hammered in her chest as her thoughts immediately spanned to Karofsky, so when she spun around and came face to face with Santana, she was more relieved than she ever had been to see her long term tormentor. Santana might be a bitch, but she wasn't dangerous, and Rachel was not afraid of her. Not in a physical sense at least.

"Listen hob-Berry," Santana closed her eyes for a second, as if switching to one of Rachel's actual names rather than insulting her caused her great pain. "I don't like you, and you being a nut doesn't change that." Rachel said nothing. She watched Santana, carefully, as if expecting the girl to pull out a knife and thrust it right through her. Speeches that started with 'I don't like you' were rarely declarations of love.

"But it does mean it turns me from a high school bitch to a hard faced bully, and us glee kids see enough of those without turning into them ourselves. Don't think for one second that your crazy habit makes us friends or anything, but if we just take to ignoring each other with occasional civil exchange, I think I can live with that."

Rachel smiled, softly. She was taken aback by Santana's words (they could not quite be called an apology), but wary at the same time. It was not the first time she had shown just one small ounce of compassion towards Rachel; that had been when she had come clean about her lies about Puck, but it seemed in the weeks that followed that she was telling the truth about it just being so she could go back to taunting her without feelings like she was 'kicking Bambi'. But all the same, it had shown there was a heart in there somewhere, however small and cold. That time was different though. There was something hidden behind the hardness of Santana's eyes that had Rachel not seen so much in the past few days, she would not have noticed. Guilt.

After a long, drawn out silence in which Rachel could see Santana was starting to get bored and on the verge of rolling her eyes and making some comment about the one time Rachel managed to keep her mouth shut for more than ten seconds being the time she most wanted her to say something. "That would be nice," she managed, lamely. It wasn't very dramatic or stage worthy, but it was all she could think of. 'Lovely' was too much of a strong word, and 'thank-you' didn't seem appropriate either. It should not have been an agreement they were forced to make in the first place.

"Right, so now we have that hug and love over and done with, I'm going to cut class. Tell Mr. Crammer I have women issues." Santana's heels clicked against the tiled floor as she stalked to the door, but before she crossed from the classroom to the still crowded hallway, she turned back to face Rachel, the guilt still visible through her dark eyes. "And Berry, if any of those," she nodded her head in Rachel's general direction, but it was obvious what she was referring to, "are because of me, then I- well, if I'd have known, I might have thought about not saying it."

Without another word, Santana swung her head back towards the door, swishing her long hair over her shoulder as she did and clicked her heels right out of the room. Rachel waited until she could no longer hear the sound of them echoing through the bust corridor before she followed suit, bewildered by what had just happened.

…

It wasn't until Finn appeared in her room that night while she was blasting music in her ears through her i-pod and trying to ignore the niggling guilt inside her that Rachel realised she'd forgotten to lock the door. She cursed herself for her stupidity as she stared at him, hoping that if she looked hard enough, he might disappear. He couldn't be there, not now, not in her own house where she couldn't run. Rachel pulled the earphones out and clenched her fists, digging her sharp nails hard into her palms to calm her pounding heart. She armed her guard ready to take him down it if became necessary.

"What else can I do?" He demanded, angrily glaring at her with his dark eyes. Rachel used to love those eyes. She'd lose herself in them as they spoke, imagining them in a different world, just the two of them with no one else to answer to, but now they just scared her. They meant something, a something that she wasn't ready to face. "How many more ways are there to say I'm sorry?"

Rachel didn't answer him. She could think of nothing to say, because it was no longer about him being sorry. He had made his remorse obvious enough, and she was sure he would not be making the same mistakes a second time around, but still, she could not return her heart to him, because it was broken. It had been shattered into pieces that lay scattered around her feet. Even if she were to pick it all up, she had no idea how it was supposed to go together, and she knew without trying that there were parts that would stay lost forever. Rachel couldn't give her heart back to Finn, because it was beyond repair.

"Just tell me if there's a chance for us Rach, or if I'm just wasting my time." He sounded so defeated that Rachel could no longer ignore him. He reminded her of herself in the day that followed their breakup. Like there was nothing left of him, no fight. She couldn't do that to someone else, no matter how much they might deserve it.

"It is no longer about what either of us have done to the other. So no, Finn, I cannot be with you. Not now, not in six months, maybe not ever. There is no longer enough left of me to give, this is far beyond a bad habit, it's _me. _This habit has taken my identity, I am not the girl you fell in love with, if you ever really did love me. I am someone else, someone consumed by this urge, this darkness, someone without a place or direction. I cannot ask you to walk with me, because I don't know where I am headed to, where I shall end up, or if I am just on an endless road to nothing.

"I know you will want to come with me anyway, but I just can't do it, Finn. I can't keep looking over my shoulder to make sure you are still following. I can't worry about leading you as well as myself. I have to focus on me, on escaping whatever this is, because I'm not living a life anymore, it's an existence. I don't have a heart, I have shattered pieces. You can be my friend, but I can't let you be a part of me, because you will be the only part."

Rachel watched Finn's face drop. She watched his shoulders slouch and his heart break as he realised what she was trying to tell him. She was too broken to love him. She saw the guilt that tore through his features, because whatever way either of them tried to look at it, however many long words she used, he had helped break her. He had been the final blow she needed to cave in, and whereas that blow would have come sooner or later anyway, had he not left her, he could have pieced her back together while there was still that hope.

He may have hurt her, but hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do. Rachel stood shakily from the bed and took tiny, tentative steps towards Finn and reached towards him, her fingers stretching for his. He took her hand, tucking it into his huge one and pulled her into his chest, using his whole body to cover her, as if he could protect from all the hurt she was feeling, and everything that had passed.

"If I ever find myself," she whispered "you're the only person I want to share me with."

**I've noticed for the last couple of chapters that I've not had as many reviews as normal. I really appreciate the ones I have had, I just hope it's not because I've lost a bunch of readers along the way for whatever reason. **

**Next chapter will be the last! **


	25. Chapter 25

**Trigger warning. That is the last time I am going to write that (for this fic). I will miss this story. I am going to put all author's notes up here so not to ruin the ending with an interruption about something entirely random (although no rant today). **

**I really really love getting all your reviews and feedback, it literally gets me out of bed in the morning. I post the night before so I can wake up to emails on my phone, and it's reading them that wakes me up enough to drag myself out of bed and to school. Otherwise I'd just fall asleep again and never make it in. Thanks so much for all the alerts, reviews etc throughout this story, one more for the end of the road? **

**Special thanks to noro, theluckyclover, umpadee, sparkleinthesun, Angel Eyed Vampire, Dimondeyes, laylita83, cutelikemomiji, facingfuture, Taralynnn and gleek30 for reviewing on several occasions, and anyone else who has read, reviewed, favourited and read this story until the end. Writing is my crack and you guys are my dealers. **

**Oh, and try not to kill me too much. **

A year is long enough have a baby and fall into motherhood, it is long enough to get a divorce and end up with kids on weekends, it's long enough to drop out of school and find a job working at a fast food restaurant to make ends meet, it's long enough to have someone else's baby for them and face the heart breaking process of giving up the child that has gone with you everywhere for nine months, it is long enough to discover your illness and have it take you to an early grave, it's long enough to move out, get a job and start to make your own way in life. But for Rachel, it was not long enough to escape from the cage.

One month after she had been set up with a therapist she did not want, she had her diagnosis. Atypical depression, characterised by the ability to feel a positive mood, differentiating it from major depression. It had all made sense then, and in some ways, she had been relieved. Having an actual medical problem had meant she wasn't just the weak, pathetic girl unwanted by her own mother. She had a reason for being the way she was, and somehow, it eased off her self hatred by the smallest fraction.

But even doctors did not have a magical cure. Her case was not severe enough for medication, they said, she ought to just continue with her therapy and ensure she had a strong support system to get her through the worst moods. After hearing that, Rachel began to believe it would be okay. She knew she had that, she had Kurt, Finn and the rest of the glee club. She even had Miss Pillsbury if she really needed someone more knowledgeable to talk to during the day. Her fathers, when they were in the right mood.

After having an actual official diagnosis, they had started to avoid her less and less. Hiram was relieved there was something that could be done, and once he knew he wasn't going to have to deal with her all alone, he was willing to occasionally breach a topic more heavy that her class work assignments. Leroy reluctantly admitted that perhaps it had not been a reckless attention stunt and had started to ask her how her day went, come and visit Rachel in her room to see if she needed any help with homework, or sometimes, just for a chat.

Perhaps most surprisingly of all, for the first time in her life, Rachel had her mother. Not just on a loan for a day or two before she decided she'd had enough and a relationship with her teenage daughter was too much effort to bother with, but a real, lasting relationship. Admittedly, it was not everything Rachel had dreamed of. It didn't make all the hurt go away, or fill up the emptiness inside as she had once told Jesse was what having a mother would mean to her. Nothing could truly do that, but Shelby helped.

Shelby helped probably more than she would ever know, because it was the reluctant, not thought over promise that Rachel had agreed to only to prevent another argument that was stopping her doing what she most wanted to do. The promise had been vague and unsure, she had known, even as she was agreeing to it, that she was going to live to regret it, but she had made it all the same, and one thing she had never done was go back on a promise.

Even in the months she had hid her unhappiness from the world, she had never once made any promises. She hadn't told Kurt the stitches were needed because of an accident with a fan, but she had never promised. She had told whoever asked that she was fine, happy even, but she had never promised. She had said she didn't care about what Neanderthal bullies thought of her talent, personality or looks, but she had never promised. Never once in her life had Rachel made a promise she did not keep, and she did not intend for a broken one to be her last act.

That wasn't to say she didn't try and find her way around it as best as she could. She did not deliberately step out in front of cars, but she didn't always look either. She didn't climb to the top of a multi story building and threaten to throw herself off, but she wasn't always cautious of the edge. She didn't swallow a handful of pills from the cupboard in the kitchen, but she wasn't careful with her dosage. She did not intentionally walk alone in the dead of night, but she no longer carried a rape whistle everywhere she ventured. She didn't want to kill herself, but that didn't mean Rachel didn't want to die.

It was not like she hadn't tried. In the first few months, she had been hopeful. She had, for the first time in her life, both friends and family by her side. All the friends and family she could have ever hoped for and more, she had Finn, who was something less than a lover, but something more than a friend. She had her dreams, which the closer she got to college, didn't seem so far off and impossible after all. She had everything she had ever wanted, except happiness.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she smiled or how long she laughed for, no matter how many date nights she went on with Kurt and performing competitions she won or solos she earned, the darkness just wouldn't shift. It didn't go away the first time she called Shelby 'mom' and had the name accepted rather than told that wasn't the relationship they had. It had not shifted when she had shared a kiss with Finn when he had come knocking on her door late at night and dragged her outside to watch the snow, because, in his words, it was 'like all big, but slow and stuff.' It had not even shifted when the glee club had banded together and sung a group number of Mariah Carey's 'Hero', dedicated to her.

Those things had been sweet, they had lifted her mood for hours, days even. They had given her a reason to smile on the bad days, but what she dreaded was that the bad days still came. No matter how much sweet and how many happy moments she had in her life, the cage was still there, and it was growing smaller and smaller with each day. It had not been long before the sweet moments stopped coming, not because everyone had given up, but because she could no longer recognise them. They no longer burned bright enough through the blackness.

Everyone was trying so hard, even Quinn and Santana had grudingly joined her 'army', although that was as far as their olive branch stretched. The others were so kind to her, so supportive and willing to have a phone conversation until two in the morning if she was feeling dangerously low, that Rachel did not have the heart to tell them. The weeks had turned into months, and eventually, she had stopped doing those things. She no longer called Kurt for an extra 'date night' when she felt the clouds beginning to creep over her shoulders, she no longer talked Mercedes ear off until past midnight and watched _Funny Girl _with Shelby so many times they could recite the script without the movie running in the background.

Rachel had stopped doing those things, and after a while, they had stopped offering. All she had to do was smile and put on her 'good day' face, and they eventually stopped asking her if it was fake. People had began to let their guard down, they stopped treating her as if she were a rag doll, shabby and falling apart at the seams. Soon, a 'good day' became what was expected of her, and she did not have the energy, or the heart, to correct them.

It had taken a while for her to trust her friends. She had always had Kurt, but the others had shunned her, they had pulled her down and almost every member of the Glee Club was a mark on her skin. She could tell by the guilt pressed deeply into their eyes that they knew. They remembered every name they had ever called her, every time they'd told her to keep her overly large mouth shut, every time they had tore the one thing she believed in to shreds. They remembered, and they did everything they could to make up for them.

Even with the support of more friends than she'd had in her life, the cuts had began to collect again. More carefully that time around. They knew to check her legs now, and her stomach. Her arms were too hard to hide, so she had stared on her hips instead. Just one at a time, no words, often having to cross over old scars because there was little fresh canvas to paint on. Those would be hidden by her underwear, and no one ever went as far as asking her to take that off.

It meant they were happy again. The people who had tried so hard to make her happy could smile as they woke up in the morning without the burden of what mood she was going to be in that day, and she couldn't take that away from them, not again. Rachel felt so guilty for lying to the people who had shown they cared about her, but she would feel even worse to drag them down again, because she knew that time, they would not be so willing. They'd be tired, bored, fed up. Sick of her. They'd never say so of course, but they'd be wishing she would just get out of their lives. So she tried to. She tried to leave them without hurting them, but that was going to be impossible.

Rachel already knew she could not break her promise, however unenthusiastically she had agreed. So she had to carry on. She had to go through her day to day life, turn her assignments in on time, accept solos, stand at the front and sing rather than sway in the background, she had to smile at jokes, go along with outings and engage in conversation, but they did not act as distractions. Those things just made everything so hard, because all she wanted to do was stay in her bedroom, alone and without a thing to face in the world.

Sometimes, Rachel would plug her i-pod into her ears to block out the world, it was the perfect excuse not to talk to anyone without them guessing something was wrong. Sometimes, she would take all of her piled up homework and spend one evening completing every piece she could scrounge, just so there was something to fill her up other than the agonising emptiness that resided inside her most of every day. She also took to teaching herself to play the piano. She'd stay for an hour after school every day and use Brad's, something she gathered he wasn't very happy with, but could do little about. She also sensed that a part of him didn't want to stop her. He sometimes gave Rachel the faint impression that he knew just why she was there.

Few people noticed Rachel's deterioration. If she snapped back at them, was a little too quiet or didn't fight quite as hard for a solo as the Rachel they knew would have done, they would sidle up to her as soon as the opportunity arose and insist on a spontaneous outing. They would assume it was just part of her depression, because they all knew it was something that would never completely go away. She'd told them that from the start, but the carefully crafted mask that she had acquired through years of practice did its job well enough. They had no idea just how much her illness still lingered, the words it whispered.

But sometimes, in fleeting moments, Rachel was sure her mother knew. The parting hugs they shared grew longer, Shelby's arms growing tighter around her each time as if it was the last time they were going to meet. Other times, she would catch Shelby looking at her. Not saying anything, just looking, curiously, as if she were trying to figure out her smile. Rachel was always careful to continue with what she was doing, just as she had been doing it, but something in her mother's stare told her she knew more than Rachel was letting on to.

It was during one night when the hurt was at its most soul consuming that Rachel decided to go for a walk. She had no particular destination, and neither did she care that it was 12.30 in the morning, she just needed to be somewhere than laying in her bed, feeling the pain press so heavily upon everything in her body that it felt as if she were quite literally breaking. It hurt so much she could barely breathe, and she was sure if it did not go away soon, she would die. Right there and then. So she left the warm comfort of her bed and ventured into the biting winter weather.

The cold hit her as soon as she stepped outside, and she wished she had cared enough to bring a jacket. Not that it really mattered, even the icy snowflakes could not hurt as much as the glass lodged in her chest. She trudged through the snow, realising too late she was still wearing her slippers. Snow worked its way into them, soaking through her socks and between her toes, onto the souls of her feet, almost freezing them in place. But determined to rid herself of the tearing agony writhing through her, Rachel carried on walking.

She did not notice where she was walking, just that no matter how far she went, she did not get any warmer. Rachel plunged her hands into her dressing gown pockets and felt something cold and heavy resting in the bottom. Curious, she pulled it out and a sudden light shone through the darkness from the screen of her phone. She had dropped it in there after she had text Kurt goodnight. The screen flashed with an unread message, which Rachel soon saw was from Brittany. Curious, she pressed _read._ They had not spoken a lot in the past year, but the few exchanges that had happened had been pleasant. Brittany's childish innocence softened the hurt around the edges.

_Kurt says your a princess, and princess should smile even when theyre sad. _

Despite the snow, Rachel felt a warm glow radiate inside her as the smile Brittany wanted danced across her lips without being forced. The hurt had not gone, but just for a moment, it subsided enough so she could stop shivering, she could stand still in the cold country road that she had ended up in and just look forward to the next moment in time when she could feel like not all was wrong with the world. It was strange how something so small from someone she barely spoke to could help in a way even those closest to her could not, but in that moment Rachel felt a bead of love attach itself to Brittany from her, and she knew it would never go away.

Rachel did not see the car that hit her, but when it did, speeding down the apparently deserted road in the small hours of the morning, it was not how she may have expected. If she had ever thought about it, she would have come to the conclusion that it would hurt, but she didn't feel anything other than her body rolling onto the bonnet and then a soft thump as she fell again into the snow several feet away. She would have thought the driver would screech to a halt and run to see if she was okay, but she lay there in the snow and no one came. It didn't hurt, but Rachel knew she was dying.

She knew _because _it didn't hurt. The glass was no longer lodged in her heart, the pain no longer twisted her insides, the cold weight had fallen from her shoulders and the smile still lingered on her lips. She was going to die, but she didn't want die alone. Rachel reached for her phone that had fallen not far from herself. She had automatically wrapped her fingers all the more tightly around it when the car had hit, if just for something to hold on to.

The movement was painless, but her breath was coming out shorter, less evenly. She didn't want to die alone. There were so many people she could share her last moments with. Far more than she would ever have hoped for. Her dads, Mercedes, Brittany, Noah, Shelby, Kurt, Finn. Even Tina, Mike or Sam. At a time when she had been at her worst, all of her friends had taken to leaving their phones on at night and by their bedside. She just hoped it wasn't a habit they had fallen out of.

With a quick decision, Rachel pressed _call, _and held the phone loosely to her ear. Her arm didn't seem to be working properly. She wasn't in any pain, but it was weak, it wouldn't do what she wanted it to. But she didn't want to die alone.

Kurt picked up on the seventh ring, just as Rachel was thinking she may have to die alone after all. His voice crackled over the phone, perhaps because her phone was damp from the snow, perhaps because she was in the middle of nowhere, or maybe it was just because it was early in the morning.

"Rachel?" He croaked, the worry clear in his voice from the use of her real name. It wasn't surprising, it was past one in the morning. "What's wrong?" Rachel relaxed, even thought she knew she was dying. She wasn't going to die alone.

"I-I just didn't want to be alone," she admitted, and when Kurt next spoke, it was with a mixture of relief that nothing serious seemed to have happened, but worry because she was hurting.

"You'll never be alone Princess." Rachel smiled at the nickname, the words of Brittany's text still drifting around her mind. It wasn't so bad really, to die. There was no pain in death, and she could close her eyes knowing she had not broken her promise to her mom.

"Kurt?"

"Yes sweetie?"

"Do you think Finn knows I came alive again when he kissed me?"

Finn had been hurt when she broke away, Rachel had seen it in his eyes, felt it in his posture. She had felt _him _almost like their hearts were connected, and it had broken hers too when she whispered goodnight and went back inside, but kissing him had been too much too soon. She wasn't ready to go back there with him, not when she was still lying every day. But it had been one of the best moments in all she could remember. Her illness crippled her, it made the world so dark and twisted, but kissing Finn had made her feel so normal again, complete. It had filled up the emptiness inside and made all the hurt go away. Rachel just hoped he knew that.

"I'm sure he does."

"Do you think you could tell him for me?"

"Tell him yourself."

"Please?"

Rachel heard the hitch of fear in Kurt's voice when he said that. It was full of unspoken questions. Why is it so important that he knows? Why can't you tell him yourself? But he didn't ask any of that.

"I love you."

"You too, Princess."

That time, there was no mistaking Kurt's fear. His voice shook as he replied, but Rachel was so calm, so soft, that it was near impossible to think the worst. That was the best bit about dying. The peace. It wasn't hectic and agonising like it always was in movies. It was just there, a part of life that she had to face.

"Stay on the phone," Rachel whispered, before letting her arm drop, the phone falling away from where it was pressed to her ear. But it was still close enough so she could hear the sound of Kurt's breathing, she could hear the soft tone of his reply, even if she couldn't make out what he said, and she knew she was not going to die alone.

One last coherent thought floated through Rachel's head as she lay in the soft, undamaged snow and gazed up at the stars.

_Princesses should smile. _


End file.
